Saintly Instincts
by Roaddog 469
Summary: Here we are ladies and gentlemen. The end of it all. This is my conclusion to my Twins/OFC saga. See inside first chapter for complete Author's Note...
1. Author's Note

***AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, here we are ladies and gentlemen. The end of the line. I knew where I was going with this one, but I had a hard time getting there, because, well, frankly, I wasn't sure I wanted to end this journey. I enjoy my OFC and I love writing the boys, but I knew it was coming when I started and y'all have been great and supportive through the whole thing.

Much love to Numbr1Fanilow, Valerie E. Mackin (btw, everyone should check out her BDS series, it kicks ass!) JavaNut, SaraLostInes, pitbullsrok, and PenelopeSweet for reading from the beginning and keeping me going with the knowledge that at least y'all were enjoying this and I should keep it up.

And to all the newbies that I've picked up along the way, thank you so much for your reviews and favorites your argh comments wanting to know when the next installment would be going up, sincerely Thank You. If everyone had given up during my many hiatuses of writer's block I would have understood, but y'all hung in there for me and so now here we are.

Anyway. Onto the story…I know that the movie says only eight years have passed from the time of the first movie and the second, but I needed the kid to be a little bit older, so I took a little bit of poetic license with it and made it the actual ten years between release of Boondock and Boondock 2.

Everyone knows that as a story goes on there is less sex in the third reel and it's no different here. There is still sex, fear not, but not as much, especially considering how *long* this fic ended up being. I thought about posting it as two parts, but couldn't really find a logical split point, so it's just one really long fic.

Um,what else? I think that's it, really. Last in the series. It's been a helluva ride, but now me and the lass are just going to fade into the background. I hope y'all have enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Thanks again for the support and encouragement! I hope you enjoy it and please review and let me know what you think of how the whole crazy thing came together.

Take care, y'all! And Enjoy!

***End of AUTHOR'S NOTE***


	2. Chapter 1

Time changes everything. It always has. It always will.

It had certainly changed Connor and Murphy McManus.

Of course that hadn't kept their new Mexican, Romeo, from figuring out who they were on the freighter they had hopped to head back to Boston.

And it certainly hadn't kept Doc from recognizing them the second he opened the door.

"Doc!"

"Boys," he said as he ushered them in out of the cold. The place had changed, but it was still Doc's. Even smelled the same. And as the shots started pouring and an old comfortable and familiar alcoholic haze fell over the twins even the little room where Doc was hiding them started to seem like the second home the pub had once been to them.

Sometime after the "Lobster Dick!" and the nonsensical "Fuck! Ass!" interlude with Doc, Romeo passed out, curled up on the pool table and the twins and Doc made their way back into the bar proper.

The boys hoisted onto barstools and Doc pulled them pints. Doc stammered on about the guys that had been regulars and what they were up to now. How no one in the neighborhood thought for a second that the priest had been the Saints' doing. The boys talked of their dad, the sheep. It was a full half an hour of chit chat before Connor finally put into words the question that had gone unspoken, even between himself and Murphy, for the last ten years. "Is she still in the neighborhood?"

Murphy swallowed and looked up at Doc as the old man shook his head, his eyes downcast. He had expected the question and wasn't looking forward to answering it. "N-n-not round here anymore. She's got a place across town, with her h-h-husband."

Murphy took the news in stride, nodding slowly, resigned, but Connor's head snapped around like he had been dealt a physical blow. "Husband?"

Doc nodded.

"Ye didn't expect her to become a nun, didja Conn?" Murphy asked, sensibly.

"Nah, o' course not, but –" Connor trailed off.

"Is he a decent sort, at least?" Murphy asked. "This fella she's married to?"

"N-n-never met him myself. But I've never seen her beaten up."

The boys laughed a little under their breath as they pictured the ensuing blood-bath should any man ever try to get rough with her if she didn't want them to, when Connor clicked to what Doc had just said. "So you've seen her, then?"

"Oh, aye. She comes by every six months or so. Always alone. Brought me a wedding invitation. Comes in for a b-b-beer. Asks if I've heard anything about the pair of ye, asks after me. P-p-pays and leaves. Matter of fact, she was just here. As soon as news broke about McKinney, she came in askin after ye."

The twins eyed each other, a silent conversation between the two of them, before Murphy turned to Doc, "So do ye know where she's working now?"


	3. Chapter 2

"You all know how much I hate staff meetings" the boss said, setting her coffee down. "So whatcha say I get this done quick so the drug abusers can go out back and smoke?"

A round of subdued snickers and nodding heads greeted her so she continued. "Nothing earth-shattering this week. Sales are up. Yay. I've still got a full-time spot open for one of you part-timers to apply for. I can only keep it open another week then I've got to start pulling outside applications. I know we're not curing cancer here, boys and girls, we're selling bras and panties, but the benefits have always done well by me." She consulted a notebook on the table. "Hm, I see some of you are still saying that Security isn't walking you out at close?" She looked up and was met by a few timid nods. "Ok, let me bust Rob's balls about it. I'll get it cleared up." She tapped a pen against the notebook a few times. "Don't forget the panic cell number up on the wall," she said, looking up. "If you don't have an escort out, you can't find security or they're too busy, or you just don't feel safe? You **call** my husband. We clear?" A few more nods. "Ok, that's it from me. Anybody got anything else?"

"September birthdays, Boss," her second in command chimed in.

"Oh right," she said. "Who's in September?"

"Katie and Mary Belle."

The boss arched an eyebrow. "I thought Mary Belle quit."

"No, Boss," her second countered.

"Yea, she did," came a voice from the back of the room. "Last week."

"Really?" the second asked looking back. "Huh," she said, turning front.

"Well, glad we got that cleared up," the Boss said, turning on her second with a questioning look. "Remind me, Twoey, why I keep you as my second?"

"Because I'm more diplomatic and I can walk comfortably and correctly in a pair of heels."

The boss nodded. "Yea, that must have been it. Katie? You here?"

A tiny hand rose at the back of the room. "Katie. Your birthday is towards the end of the month, right?"

"The 29th," she confirmed.

"Mind if we lump you in with the Octobers?"

"No, ma'am, er, um, Boss."

"Thank you, Katie. Ok, anybody else got anything?" Everyone looked around at each other. "Nothing?" No answer. "Great, I'm going out back."

"I sure hope no one needs that panic cell this week," the boss continued to her second as they stepped into the alley and her second fired up. "The husband left town last night to go see his brother in New York."

"Yeah? Just you and Seth?"

She smiled. "Yeah, gonna catch a couple of movies. At least one night of horror movies on the couch. I'm looking forward to it. It's so nice now while he's still young and still thinks I'm cool."

"Yeah," the second agreed, "they grow out of it eventually."

"I don't even want to think about it."

They stood silently for a few minutes. "I wouldn't worry about the panic cell," the second said. "No one's used it for three years, I doubt anyone will need it in the next week."

"Dammit," the boss snapped, "you know you just jinxed us, right? Why the hell do I keep you around?"

"The whole professional image thing, Boss."

She sighed exaggeratedly, "I could start doing my hair and wearing makeup, you know?"

"True," she agreed, "but you're a little old to just start wearing heels."

"Damn your logic," she replied, grinning as the door opened behind them and Katie stuck her head out.

"Um, Boss? There's a guy out here, um, kinda, creeping around. He's lurking in the negligee and keeps shrugging off anyone who offers to help. He's not even really looking at the clothes, just the girls. Carolyn said to come get you."

"And that's why you're the boss," her second said as she crushed her cigarette under her heel.

The boss arched an eyebrow and conceded. "I guess you can keep your job, then."

"Thanks, Boss," she replied as she leaned back against the building, lighting a second cigarette. The boss selected a spray from the table just inside the door, sprayed a cloud then stepped through it, covering the smoke smell.

She squared her shoulders and walked out onto the floor. She spotted the guy right away, not tall, but taller than she was. Not stacked, but wiry. Big, potentially crazy eyes and a haircut that screamed mental illness. She approached him round about, giving him a chance to speak first or leave. He didn't do either, but she did catch him watching her as she busied herself around him, circling him. She straightened a rack in front of him, giving him her back as she watched him in the bubble mirror on the ceiling. He was definitely looking at her ass. She was almost flattered. Been awhile since a man had looked at her ass, but she could certainly see how he had creeped out the younger girls.

She saw him look away, glancing out the front door and she turned on him and jumped a little, as though she had just noticed him standing there. "Oh, hi. Have you been helped?"

"No," he said, stepping back.

"Looking for something for your wife?" she pressed.

"No," he kind-of half stammered, "I'm not married."

"Oh? Girlfriend, then?"

"Um, no."

She dropped her chin, looking him up and down, then eyed the rack of black and dark green negligee in front of him. "Well, the whole department is a little risqué for your mother or sister and frankly, that color isn't going to flatter you at all."

"No, no," he said raising his hands, "you don't understand."

"No, sugar," she said, stepping to him. "You don't understand. I've got 15 employees, most of which are young women and I can't have some creepy guy hanging around and ogling them. It's bad for morale. So let me give it to you straight. You either tell me what you're looking for and let me help you find it or I give you a forty second headstart before I call the cops. Your choice."

He grinned then. A half grin, the left side of his mouth curling up, and she could see he didn't want to hurt anybody, but she also couldn't have him hanging around. She shook her head. "Forty seconds, then," she said, stepping backwards from him. "Starting now," she added as she turned away.

"They want to know if you still have the ring?"

Her steps faltered and she almost stumbled into a rack of bras. She turned back to face him and all the color had drained out of her. She put a hand up to steady herself before she walked back towards him. "What did you just say to me?"

"They told me what you looked like. Said to come in here and ask if you still had the ring?"

Her hand went to her throat as she swallowed several times. "They're here?" she whispered.

"Close by," he said, leaning into her.

She swallowed again, her color returning slowly. "And what if I think you're full of shit?"

Romeo blinked. "I'm not."

"But how am I supposed to know that?" she asked, her voice still a whisper. "Tell you what. I have a lunch break coming up in half an hour. They close enough that you could ask them something for me and make it back to that Chinese place two doors down in thirty minutes?"

"Probably more like fifteen," he said, looking over her shoulder.

She shuddered. Fifteen? The twins were within fifteen minutes of where she stood right now. She got a little woozy again and Romeo put a hand under her elbow. She took a few deep breaths and waved him off.

"Ok," she said, her voice a little stronger. "I had an outfit that I couldn't wear in front of the better kisser without him wanting to strip me out of it. You ask him what it was. And ask the older one which hand of mine he held when we slept. You come back to me with that and we can talk." She turned then and swayed back towards her crew and even though she was a little shook up and more than a little bit thicker through the hips and waist than Romeo usually liked, he could see what they had meant.

She had some fire in her.


	4. Chapter 3

She was sitting at a table for two, nervously chewing on her nail when he walked in. He spotted her easily enough and he made his way over, she glanced up at him, hope warring with fear on her face, in her eyes, in the rigid lines of her body. "His right, your left. A Bruins jersey and St. Bernard slippers."

She closed her eyes and all of the tension drained from her body as tears began leaking from under her lids as she dropped her face into her hands and sobbed.

Romeo stood there beside the table, looking awkward, until a waiter started eyeing him and he sat down. "Hey, come on," he said, quietly. "Come on, people are gonna think **I'm** making you cry."

She laughed a little, looking over at him, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and tugged gently on a chain around her neck. She pulled it out and revealed a silver ring of some kind of Irish design that Romeo didn't recognize, then she tucked it back in.

He watched as she got her composure back before she waved down a waiter. He came over to the table, writing. "B,C,D and F today, yes?"

"And G," she said, grinning. "So what are you eating?" she asked Romeo, who gaped for a second. "I mean, it's enough for like four people, but in case you don't like any of that."

Romeo glanced at the menu. "No, I'll eat some of that."

"Cool. And –"

"Eggrolls," the waiter said as he walked away.

She looked at Romeo and shrugged. "They know me." Romeo nodded. "So you know who I am. Who are you? I mean, how long have you been with them?"

"I'm not really with them," he said, his eyes down, his voice a little hurt or offended, she couldn't tell which.

"No need to get defensive. I slept with them for a year, I know you're not **with** them," she said, suggestively.

His eyes snapped up. "I'm not gay. I hail from a…oh, forget it."

She laughed a little. "So?"

"I'm Romeo," he said. "I just met them a few days ago, but I'm a big fan."

She smiled. "How are they?"

"Pissed off."

She snorted. "I bet. Honestly, I've been expecting more bodies on the news since Father McKinney. I take it the Chinese down at the docks were their handiwork?" He nodded, somberly. "Little Yaka's been getting a little too comfy over the last couple years," she said, shaking her head. "Bout time somebody took him down a peg or two," she said as plates started arriving, and she dove in. After a few bites of everything she sighed and shivered a little, before looking back up at Romeo, blushing. "I don't get to eat Chinese very often. My, husband," she stumbled over the word, "doesn't like it," she said, looking down at her plate then casting her eyes back up at him. "They know about that?"

He nodded. "Fuck Ass mentioned it."

She grinned. "Figured he would. Didn't tell them anything else?"

"Not that they told me."

She nodded seriously to herself. Then her face brightened. "So when do I see them?"

He grinned down into his Szechuan. "They were worried about you being 'a married woman' and all that."

She laughed deep in her throat. "Til the day I die, I'll never be so married that I couldn't see them. So? When?"

"Really on you. Their schedule's pretty fluid."

"Yea, I remember," she said, reaching into her purse and pulling out a business card. She took out a pen and scribbled on the back. "This is my cell. And my home address. Give me a couple of hours."


	5. Chapter 4

"Are you sure you don't mind skipping the movie, Filbert?" I asked my son as we drove through the quiet suburban streets.

"Mom! Don't call me Filbert in front of anyone." I glanced around the inside of the car and arched an eyebrow at him. "Well, I know there isn't anyone here **now** but there could have been."

"What? Like hiding in the trunk?"

"No," he sighed. "But what if you forget?"

"If there had been anyone else in the car I wouldn't call you Filbert."

"Thank you," he said, looking out the window.

"I'd call you my scrummy-numptious little sweetheart," I said, switching to baby talk and tousling his hair.

"Mo-om!" he cried, ducking away from my hand.

"Seriously, though, Seth, you don't mind?"

"Aunt Nat has PlayStation," he said, shrugging. 'Aunt' Nat also had a daughter that Seth had taken a liking to, I thought, looking out the window as I turned onto Nat's street.

"I know, but I don't want you to think I'm abandoning you," I said as I slid the car into park in front of Nat's house. "And if you did, I'd take you to the movies right now."

"Mom. You don't have to entertain me."

"Seth –"

"Mom, I think you're cool." I smiled as he unbuckled and hugged my neck.

I hugged him back. "Thank you, Filbert."

"Love you, Mom."

"Love you, too, baby," I said as he pulled away, getting his stuff together.

"Remember this," I said, climbing out of the car, "when you're 16 and I tell you that you can't have a car," I said, as I slammed the door. I heard a muffled 'Mom' as I crossed the nose of the car and stepped onto the curb.

"Why can't I have a car?" he asked, piling out of the passenger seat.

"Because you're too young, son," I said climbing the steps and ringing the bell.

"Not now, Mom," he said.

"Not now? Oh, good, cause that would be silly if you're not old enough to drive."

"I mean when I'm old."

"Probably shouldn't drive when you're old either, babe. Reflexes start to go when you're old."

"Mom, I mean-"

The door opened in front of us and Nat's blond-haired, blue eyed daughter stood in the doorway. "Hi, Seth," she said.

"Hi, Kat," he said, the car suddenly forgotten.

"Mom home, Kat?" I asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Kat said, turning back into the house and screaming 'MOM!' She turned back, "I got a new game. We get to shoot zombies."

"Sweet," Seth said and ran to follow Kat who had already disappeared down the basement steps.

"Hey, Boss," Nat, my second in command, said coming out of the kitchen. "Robert is out, picking up Patrick at football practice. Want a cup of coffee?"

"Quick one," I agreed, pulling the door shut behind me. I followed Nat down the hall, digging in the fridge to find creamer and sat at the counter where Nat had put down a cup of coffee and a sugar bowl. We had been friends a long time, Nat and I. Long enough that we could talk about anything.

"You sure that you-"

"I'm not talking about it." Well, ok, almost anything. "And you can keep your coffee if that's why you asked me in."

"I just worry-"

"Don't."

"But-"

"Nat," I said, holding up a hand. "I know I'm not 25 anymore and I know I don't make decisions just for me anymore. I know I'm a grown-up now."

"But what if-"

"What? What if I get hurt? They may be killers, but I can swear to you on the eyes of my son, that they would never hurt me."

"I was gonna say, 'what if you find out you still care about them?'"

I felt a sad smile cross my face. "Still? I never stopped. But that doesn't matter much."

"Some people would say that's all that matters."

"Some people aren't mothers," I said, listening to the sound of my only son downstairs blasting zombies head apart. I glanced at my watch, then rose. "I gotta get going." I walked downstairs and saw a head blow apart in a splatter of gore.

"Good shot, Seth," Kat said, awe in her voice.

"I'm leaving, babe," I said.

"Kay, Mom," Seth said, his eyes focused beyond the end of his rifle at the dark corners of the room he was entering.

"Seth. Rule 10."

He sighed, as he paused his game. He stepped over to me and hugged me. "Thank you, Seth."

"Love you, Mom. See you tomorrow. Then we'll see the movie."

"Thank you, bud," I said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. Didn't have to lean much, though. He'll be taller than me soon, I thought. I watched him pick up his controller and nail a zombie from across the room.

"Nice shot," Kat breathed.

"Thanks," he said, intent on the screen.

"What's Rule 10?"

"Never know what goodbye will be the last, so make each one count."

I smiled as I trudged back up the stairs. Nat waited for me by the door. "So we'll see you tomorrow?"

I narrowed my eyes before I answered. "Did you not just hear me make a date with my son? We've been friends long enough for you to give me enough credit to know that I wouldn't break his heart for a weekend romp with old flames."

"We both know they are more than that," Nat said, opening the door.

"Yeah," I said, stepping through. "But I'll be back tomorrow." Nat nodded. "Tell Robert hi for me," I said as I walked back down the stoop and out to my car.

It wasn't until I got behind the wheel that I started to shake. I had to pull over at a Stop and Rob to grab a pack of cigarettes. I had quit when I was pregnant with Seth and now only smoked when I drank…and apparently when hooking up with vigilante ex-boyfriends in from out of town to take out the head of the local Mafia, I thought as I lit up.

I almost puked.

I couldn't just take this kind of thing in stride the way I used to. Hell, I wasn't a kid anymore.

Oh, holy fuck, I thought looking down at myself. I wasn't exactly the sweet young thing that they used to be able to bend and twist any and every way they wanted, either. I had lost the battle with the laws of gravity sometime after Seth stopped breastfeeding and had given up on expecting my metabolism to keep up with my appetite around the time he had started school.

Don't get me wrong. I mean, I wasn't some hideous troll who had to have a wall taken out of the house if she wanted to go outside, but I wasn't the cute, perky little thing they would remember. I was now a mom and a wife and looking down at myself I realized…I looked it.

I sighed sadly thinking maybe I should have taken Nat up on that aerobics class after all…little late to go now, I suppose.

Fucking hell, I thought, shaking my head as I popped the car into gear and pulled onto the street.


	6. Chapter 5

I parked the car in the driveway and piled out, grabbing my purse and slinging it over my shoulder as I climbed the steps, keys in hand. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I slipped the key in the lock and looked around warily before I stepped inside. From behind the heavy security door I looked out the peephole, seeing nothing.

I would have loved to have assumed it was the twins watching me from afar, but married to a cop who had the tendency to piss off everyone he ever met I had learned not to take anything for granted. Seth had been a little less than two, when that reality had hit me full force, I thought bolting the door and dropping my purse on the nearest chair. I climbed the stairs, pulling the drawstring on my pants as I went, thinking about that particular night…

I had had a night off of school, Phil, who had been more on the streets than at home, had had no plans and Seth had just started walking reliably on his own, so we had decided to head out to a nearby park.

There had been a break in the weather, a relatively comfy night, especially for February. Winter had already lost it's death-grip on the city and although we were all wearing jackets I wasn't worried about Seth licking any poles and getting stuck, so he toddled along in front of us.

After two years and some months, Phil and I had gotten used to each other, almost comfortable, although the presence of Seth had helped with that a great deal. But we walked along, his arm easily circling my shoulder, loaning me the warmth of his massive body. The sun was just starting to go down and I was just thinking it was time to head home when Seth wandered around a corner ahead of us. I had opened my mouth to call him back when I heard him scream.

I was already rushing forward when Phil's hand clamped down on my arm, pushing me behind him as a pretty grungy looking pair of guys came around the corner. One held a gun, aimed at us and the other held my son by one arm, a blade point pressed against the lining of his little Red Sox jacket.

My vision tunneled and went red. All I could hear was Seth, his eyes and nose running, as he screamed for me. I think one of the grungy guys was talking but I couldn't hear him over the pound of blood through my ears and my son's piercing cry. Slowly my hearing leaked back in and I heard the one with the knife say something along the lines of 'You took my son, now I'm taking yours.' I remember thinking 'the fuck you say' then Phil turned my arm loose and I ran to my son. I was aware that Phil was getting his bulk moving at roughly the same time as me and, though no lightweight, he could move. Even so, he dropped out of my vision soon after we started across the twenty or so feet that separated us and the pair of thugs.

Stupid though the guy holding Seth may have been, he wasn't an idiot. No sensible mammal keeps hold of the cub once the mother wolf is running towards you fangs bared and claws out. He dropped Seth on the pavement and I saw him extend an arm to catch himself. Once he was out of the way, something in my logical mind screamed 'oh, fuck, knife' but I couldn't stop. There was a split second of doubt in the thug's eyes and I screamed, hoping to prolong his confusion enough for me to close with him.

It slowed him by only a second but it was enough that as I ducked to one side, instead of gutting me, the blade only sliced a furrow open across my stomach. I felt the sting and the warmth, but no pain as I planted my feet on either side of my child.

I heard Seth screaming at my feet as the thug drew back his knife hand, almost as if he was planning to backhand me, and I saw an opening. I had a buddy in high school that anytime I went to take a drink of anything, he'd bump my elbow and I'd be drenched. I did that…only bigger and more violent. I put all of the baby-carrying strength in my upper body into a double handed shove that caught him just below the elbow and snapped his arm back violently. Violently enough that as he dropped to his knees, I saw the knife handle jutting from his throat, pulsating, the rate increasingly slow.

Gradually, the red receded from my vision and I could hear the noises of the city again. I could feel my limbs twitching and the burn of the gash across my belly as my adrenaline began to leak from my body. I dropped to my knees beside Seth who had run out of breath and was now crying softly, his arm bent at an obtuse angle.

I gathered him to me as gently as I could as he clung to my neck with his good arm. I felt the tears start to flow. Relief and delayed fear. Terror and joy. I felt his knee open my wound a little and I wobbled.

I heard my name ground out from between clenched teeth behind me and I turned to see Phil laid out, bleeding, clutching his side.

Standing now in front of my bedroom mirror I could still feel Phil's blood on my hands, taste Seth's tears. The memory so clear that I was surprised for an instant when I unbuttoned my top to reveal a thick white scar instead of the red gash crisscrossed with black threads. I ran my fingers lightly over the scar. Thirty-two stitches. Seth's arm had been broken in two places and Phil had been in surgery for ten hours.

I think the investigating officers had been more than a little annoyed with me. Based on the two bullets that had ripped through Phil's abdomen and shattered his hip, gunshots had obviously been fired, but I couldn't tell them when exactly. I hadn't gotten a good look at the second guy. I didn't know who fired first. Eventually after I told them to fuck off they were even less thrilled, I thought smiling as I stripped. Phil had pushed as hard as he could to not be forced into early retirement and he managed to swing a desk job, and once he got out of the hospital we had gotten married. Apparently the brush with death had brought into sharp relief that if he had died, Seth (and to a lesser degree, I) would have gotten screwed out of any kind of pension.

Dear God, I thought, standing in front of the full-length mirror and placing fingers at the top of my chest and pulling my breasts into a perky pose then letting them drop back where Nature (the heartless bitch) kept them. My ass had gotten…fluffier and my hips wider. Even the dragon tattoo on my back had put on a little weight. I hadn't gotten too wrinkly…I mean I didn't look like the Cryptkeeper or anything, but that's not to say that you couldn't tell I **was** ten years older than I had been.

And my hair.

Aw, man. If I had known Little Yaka was gonna pull this shit I could have prepared. It almost hurt my heart to think of how much Connor and Murphy both had enjoyed burying their faces in my hair or wrapping it around their fists and…

My thoughts trailed off as I watched a wicked smile cross my face. I fingered my chin-length mom-on-the-go locks and shrugged. Nothing for it now, I guess.

I walked to the bathroom, showered quickly, ran a razor over my legs, and dried off. I was just finishing brushing my teeth when I realized I didn't know what to wear. I shook my head as I spat. Had that thought seriously just gone through my brain? Like it had ever mattered before. And that realization cheered me…and my fluffy ass…and my short hair. What the hell difference did it make? My boys were back. My boys were back and they didn't hate me. They wanted to see me.

And honestly? I was happy just with that. And if after seeing me in my current disheveled 'mom' condition all they wanted was to bullshit for a couple hours before they faded back into the shadows? I could live with that, I decided as I pulled a button-up and a pair of capris out of my closet and tugged them on.

I was just brushing the last of the damp from my hair when the doorbell rang. My heart jumped and my stomach dropped. I took a deep breath then headed down the steps. I swallowed hard, stood on my tiptoes to look out the peephole and saw…Romeo. I felt my face scrunch up in frustration as I opened the door, arching an eyebrow at him. "Is this like a fakeout?" I asked.

"Naw," he said, shaking his head. "We weren't sure this was the door. And…"

"The less doors they knock on, the better," I agreed. "So?"

He turned his head and whistled, loudly, and I heard a knock on the back door. Romeo stepped away. "They have my number. Have them call me when they're ready."

"Um," I said, my nerves flaring again. "Maybe I should drop them somewhere, I think your car, um, someone would probably remember it…in this neighborhood."

He looked from me to the parti-colored clown car parked in the street then back to me, shaking his head. "Whatever," he said, walking away.

I closed and locked the front door and hurried to the back, my hand shaking and my heart pounding, I opened the door.


	7. Chapter 6

I had been so worried about how much I had changed that I hadn't even thought about the fact that they were gonna be older, too. They weren't the fresh faced boys I remembered. Connor had lost some hair and his forehead had widened. He had put on a few extra pounds and his hair had lightened. Murphy was still as slim as ever but the extra years were evident in his face in the form of lines that hadn't been there before and I could see gray trying like hell to break into his beard. I stood there for a second, just taking them in. Then I felt the corner of my mouth quirk up and they responded, smiling. Those 'we're up to no good' smiles I remembered. Their eyes brightened and then all the other differences melted away. "Oh, fuck, boys," I said, my hand dropping from the doorknob.

Then they were surrounding me. One pair of arms around my waist, the other around my ribcage. I had my arms around their necks, filling my nostrils with the smell of them. Oh God. I had missed it more than I ever had admitted, even to myself, and I got a little lightheaded, smothered in denim and spice, leather and mint, gunpowder and blood. I let out a throaty gasp that I hadn't heard from myself in a long time.

The twins recognized it and pounced. Murphy's tongue snaked across my throat and I arched against him, as I felt Connor's arm slide away from my ribs. I moaned in protest until Murphy closed his mouth over mine.

Oh.

Holy.

Fuck.

I had missed his mouth. More blood than I thought I had in my body rushed south of my waist and pulsed, intensely. I was soaked and throbbing as I heard Connor close and then latch the back door.

I heard his coat hit the floor, but I couldn't bear to tear my mouth away from Murphy's long enough to look. Connor pressed up behind me and I arched my ass into him. His hands slid around my hips, pulling me harder, back, against him. Even as I clung tighter to Murphy, Connor's hands, rough-skinned and frantic slid over my hips, under the waistband of my pants and slid inside, inching down. I felt my eyes rolling back in anticipation and I clawed at Murphy's back through his coat.

When the pad of his finger rubbed across my clit, I bucked so hard that if he hadn't had hold of me I may have knocked him across the hallway, but he held on. He moved his finger back and forth, a motion like a windshield wiper from left to right and it was different enough to be intensely pleasant. My body bowed and my mouth pulled away from Murphy's as I cried out, my head thudding back against Connor's shoulder.

His finger never stilled as his mouth moved to my earlobe, biting. I hissed and rocked my hips against his finger. Murphy leaned in, licking down my neck as his fingers pulled at my buttons. His lips soft against my collarbone, exposed when he had managed to get at least the top button open, but it didn't seem to be going well beyond that. "Murph," I gasped, "just…" and I shivered as he grabbed the shirt front and yanked. I heard buttons bounce off the floor, wall and door. I laughed a little as I felt him shucking his coat and shirt and pressed against me, his body different, but so familiar and blessedly cool.

My body, on reflex, moved towards Murphy, but Connor growled against my ear and pulled possessively back on my hips, grinding me against him and I moaned, turning my head towards him. I lifted a hand to his face and turned him towards me, "I'm right here," I whispered against his lips before our mouths met and fireworks went off behind my eyes. Oh sweet Christ, I had missed the taste of him.

I felt Murphy drop to his knees in front of me, his mouth trailing down my chest as his hands lighted around my ribcage to unclasp my bra. I felt it go and he slid one sleeve and one bra strap down my arm, his touch featherlight until it got to my hand and he squeezed. I squeezed back and laid my hand against the back of his head, tangling my fingers in his hair as his mouth found my nipple.

I moaned into Connor's mouth as my fingers stroked the spiky hair on his face. Murphy's hands around my back, pressing my shoulders forward, Connor's on my hips pulling me back and I couldn't get either of them close enough.

I was so wrapped up in the **reality** of their bodies pressed to mine after so many years of fevered day and night dreams that the first orgasm hit me like a rope-a-dope and I came screaming, my legs giving out and I collapsed forward onto Murphy's lap, straddling his thighs, my muscles quivering as I clung to his neck, trying to get my breath back.

Connor was still pressed against my back and I think he must have fallen with me but I didn't remember it. His hands were back at my pants, tugging. I wanted to help him, I really did, but my body was jelly. "My legs. Not. Working," I panted.

"Murph?" Connor said, a frantic edge to his voice.

"Aye," Murphy said, sitting up, his thighs at right angles to the floor, his arms wrapping me in a bear hug, holding me to his chest and all I could smell was him. My knees dangled off the ground and Connor had my pants and panties off of my numb legs about the time I started licking Murphy's neck, kissing his skin, remembering the texture.

"Christ," he moaned into my hair as he set my knees on the floor in front of him. His arms free of me, he unzipped and pulled himself out of his pants. The feeling returned to my legs in a rush and I climbed his wide-spread thighs.

"Do ye have-?" Connor asked, his pants and underwear at his knees, behind me.

"Drawer," I said, pointing to a utility drawer, maybe three feet from me. He shuffled off and it would have looked utterly ridiculous any other time, but right now all I could think was how great his ass still looked.

He pulled a tube of KY out of the drawer, his eyebrow arched, "Why?" he said.

"Later, later! Just-" I said, hovering over Murphy's painfully erect member. I caught his chin between my thumb and forefinger and held his eyes with my own as I slowly lowered myself onto him. I watched the spark flare deep in those gorgeous blue pools and it was the last sensual thing about the next several minutes. The feel of him back inside of me again was like a drug. I wanted more and I wanted it fast.

I got my knees onto his hips, my ankles crossed at the small of his back and I started riding. Hard. His fingers clamped in the flesh of my hips as I pulled at his shoulders. I felt Connor come up behind me, his cock slick against my skin as he moved closer. Murphy's face was buried against my neck, as I looked over my shoulder at Connor, concern over my pain and lust for my body warring in his expression. I tried to put in my eyes all the desire for him that I was feeling. How badly I needed him filling me.

I saw the moment when he got the point. His hand slid around my middle, wrapping a forearm around my belly, as he lined up and slammed into me. I screamed.

I could feel myself tearing and knew I would bleed, but I didn't care. I could feel the tears tracking down my face but it was hard to pay attention to them with both my boys inside my body again. I leaned further back against Connor's still clothed chest and Murphy moved with me, the friction against my thighs from his jeans adding a whole level to the pleasure.

I sank my nails into Connor's ass with my right hand as he pounded into me and kept my elbow around Murphy's neck, holding him in place as I clawed at his shoulder.

The planets had aligned. My boys were back. They were fucking me and it was fan-fucking-tastic. Despite how sore and sad I would be when they left again, this moment, as my orgasm started to rise through my body, would sustain me until I died.

Their angles perfect. Their pace violent. My cry started as a growl, but quickly rose in pitch to something like a howl and they both reacted to it. I felt blood come up under my nails, as I dug into both of their bodies, as my own started to spasm. Connor hissed against my shoulder, his chest pressed against my back, his hips thrusting against mine.

Murphy moaned against my neck, as I felt his body begin to quiver against my own, his fingers sinking in hard, his whole body tensing as he prepared to unload inside of me. He growled as he rose a little on his knees, adding gravity and the power of his hips to his thrust as I came screaming. The quiver of my insides strangling his cock, pushed him over the edge and he spurted inside of me with one last almost mournful cry.

Between Murphy's spasm and my cries, Connor thrust one last violent time and unloaded inside of me with a hard breath against my back as his body went boneless against my own.

The weight of the two of us was too much for Murphy's limp form and he slid to one side, taking me and Connor with him. The floor was cool against my side as I landed. Connor was still connected to me, but slid out and onto his back between me and the wall. He laid his hand, warm, rough, and heavenly, against my back. My leg was pinned under Murphy as he landed on his side, and he ran a cool finger, lazily, in circles on the inside of my thigh, as the three of us lay sprawled on the floor. Connor's pants around his ankles but otherwise still dressed, Murphy's shirt off and his jeans unzipped, my pants discarded somewhere, my shirt half on. We must have looked incredibly silly, but I couldn't have cared less.

My eyes were unfocused. My body sated, relaxed. My mind peaceful. I could feel a glimmer of a grin crossing my face. The smell of the twins, my slick, their semen, our sweat hung in the air. I would never look at my entryway the same way again. I closed my eyes and rested my cheek on the floor. They were here. I still couldn't believe it. They were here. I was almost afraid to open my eyes, for fear that when I looked, they'd be gone.

Murphy's hand left my thigh, and fingered a lock of my sweat-slicked hair where it laid against my face. I opened my eyes, meeting his. "I like yer new haircut, girl," he said, pulling my hair lightly and touching my face.

"Aye, lass," Connor said, sliding up behind me, his arm sliding under my neck, his bicep under my head, his hand tracing down my chest, cupping my breast in his palm. "Looks good on ye."

I laughed deep in my throat, as I hugged Connor's arm closer to my chest and reached out to touch Murphy's face. I felt tears rolling out of my eyes, falling into my hair, and I kept laughing. "I can't believe you're here." They closed ranks on me, closing in on both sides, their bodies no longer taut with sexual desire, but relaxed, comfortable and familiar. Just the same as when I started sleeping with them, I knew that I wouldn't keep them forever, but I had them for now, and for now that was good enough for me.


	8. Chapter 7

Very slowly, control of my legs came back to me, and as much as I didn't want to move from the pile of limbs I found myself in, "I have to get some clothes on, I'm freezing." Connor licked my ear and gave my nipple an appreciative pinch, before pulling away, and Murphy kissed the pulse in my neck before doing the same.

They both practically leapt to their feet, the bastards, as I struggled to find someplace not sore to sit on long enough to get my balance to stand. The twins watched with amused smirks, as I floundered around. I huffed out a breath and glared at them and they extended a hand each and pulled me to my feet. Standing there in my socks and half a shirt between them, I must have looked ridiculous, but Connor pulled me to his chest, his arms around my shoulders and hugged me. No heat to it, just a hug, and my arms went around his waist and I returned the squeeze, absorbing his warmth. "It's good to see ye, lass."

"You, too," I said, leaning into him, rubbing my face against the t-shirt he was still wearing.

"Aye, girl," Murphy said from behind me, and I pulled away from Connor and lifted my arms to span Murphy's wiry shoulders, as his forearms wrapped around my waist, his cool presence, while comforting just highlighted the fact that I was still in my altogether. I placed a soft kiss over the tattoo on his chest and stepped lightly back as his hands slid away.

"I need some pants and a cigarette," I said, shivering as I made my way down the hall to my laundry room. I heard the twins light up behind me as they followed, belt buckles clinking as they redressed. I pawed through a basket of folded clean clothes that had yet to make it up into dressers and pulled on a pair of panties and a pair of my sleeping pants. I turned to find the twins gaping around the room, lit cigarettes in hand, and a spare for me in Murphy's. I took it and drug deep, relishing the satisfaction from the orgasms and the nicotine as it seeped through my body. I exhaled slowly, and took a step forward. "Beer?"

"Aye," Connor replied, following me back into hallway, as I led them to my kitchen. I pulled three bottles from the fridge, and dug in a drawer for my bottle opener. We clinked bottle necks when they were open and took long swallows.

"So, lass?" Connor began, his tone serious, and I felt my insides flinch a little. _Here it comes…_

I caught a quick sharp glance from Murphy directed at his brother and a silent conversation passed between the two of them at the speed of light, and Connor continued, "Why the in the hell have ye got a tube of KY in yer hallway?"

I felt my mouth quirk up, and I shook my head a little, laughing, "You complaining? Would you rather have had to go upstairs to find it?"

"Not that," he said, shaking his head, "just sort of a strange thing for a married woman to have out and about in her house."

Murphy rolled his eyes and took a long pull from his bottle.

"Subtle, Connor, very subtle," I said, laughing. "Phil, my husband, keeps it there to keep the hinges on the back door greased. Says it works better than the other stuff. Frankly, I'm just glad it was there instead of WD-40 'cause I probably would have told you to go ahead and use that I wanted you so bad."

"Yer husband?" Connor asked.

"Aye," I agreed. "I know that Doc must have told you, so don't be trying to sneak details. Ask me straight. What do you wanna know?"

"He'll be back tonight?" Murphy asked, standing, draining his bottle.

I grinned at him, "No. He's in New York, visiting family."

"Then that's all I want t'know," he said, lightly touching my stomach, as he passed me on the way to the fridge, and pulled another bottle.

I raised my eyebrows, "Connor?"

"Does he treat ye right, lass?"

I smiled, sadly. "Yeah," I said, nodding. "He's a good guy. A cop. Wants to keep people safe. You'd probably like him, if I wasn't married to him." Connor nodded slowly as he leaned against my counter, looking down at his beer.

"Ye got pictures?" he asked, not raising his eyes.

"Connor," Murphy chastised.

Connor raised his gaze to mine. He needed to know. I nodded, "Yeah, in the living room," I said, stepping forward and taking his hand. "Come on," I said, leading him.

We had a rarely used fireplace in our living room, and over the fireplace was a stone shelf where I kept the most recent Christmas card pictures, my parents, Phil's family, Seth's most recent sports shots. That was where I lead Connor, Murphy trailing behind, I think, curious in spite of himself. "That's Phil," I said, taking down one of the framed photos, and handing it to Connor. One of my favorites of Phil. Looking good in his dress uniform, eyes all the greener against the dark of the fabric. A genuine smile on his face.

"He's a big bastard, he is," Murphy said after staring over Connor's shoulder for a second.

I laughed a little. "Yeah, he is," I agreed as Murphy moved past me to look at the rest of the pictures. He pulled down one of Seth in his summer soccer pictures.

Seth had my smile, and it was especially bright in this picture and I saw Murphy putting two and two together, before he even looked up, flashing the photo at me. "And this little one?" he asked.

I grinned, my proud-mom grin, "That's my baby," I said, walking over and looking at the picture in Murphy's hand. I could practically feel Connor go rigid four feet behind me. Murphy smiled wide, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, he tried to get it there, but it didn't make it.

"How old?" he asked looking, back down at the picture.

"He's eight there, but he's nine, now. Be ten in March," I said and I felt the tension rise in the room. _This was not gonna be good,_ I thought. "You can both stop counting, he was conceived the night after you left for Ireland."

The tension drained and was replaced by an almost sadness, and I felt bad for it. "He's got yer smile," Connor said, stepping up behind me, replacing Phil's picture on the mantle and gazing down at Seth's. "Not yer eyes, though."

"Or yer old man's," Murphy added, looking the picture of Phil over.

"My mom's," I said, grinning.

"Good at sports, then, is he?" Connor asked.

I smiled. "He plays the team sports to keep Phil happy. He prefers boxing."

"Irish to the bone, he is, then, girl," Murphy said, putting the picture back. "What's his name?"

"Seth," I said, stepping back. "Seth McManus O'Malley." They both jerked. "Phil's idea of a joke. Said if it hadn't been for the McManus brothers, we never would have met. I didn't fight it."

"Yer certain, then?" Connor asked, eyeing the picture of my son. "That he isn't…"

"Yeah," I said, my voice catching. I cleared my throat. "Paternity test. Phil insisted."

Murphy snorted, and I arched an eyebrow at him. "Then, the night after we left, you…"

I looked at him full. He was asking. Honestly. I felt my brow furrow. "You didn't know?"

"How would we have?" Connor asked over my shoulder.

"Smecker was gonna…he didn't tell you?" They both shook their heads at me. Smecker, that sneaky bitch. "I figured that was why I never heard from you again. I figured you didn't want to speak to me, after I …" I shook my head.

"He told us if we called, it would put ye in danger. That what was left of Yakavetta's organization was watching ye."

"If we tried to contact ye, ye'd be hurt."

"Couldn't risk it," Connor said, lightly touching my hand.

"So we stayed away."

"Fuck me," I said, shaking my head.

"So the night after we left?" Murphy persisted.

"Ye went out…" Connor added.

I shook my head. "I couldn't take it," I said, and it sounded just as lame now as it did in the cruel light of that early hungover morning near ten years ago. "Your faces were everywhere. Everybody wanted to know what I knew about it. Smecker gave me your envelope, the sketches on the news. I needed to get out. I needed to get drunk." I stepped out from between the two of them, and dropped onto the couch. "I needed my brain blank for a couple of hours. I thought…" I looked at the two of them and they stared back at me. "I thought straight, hard sex would do it." They both grinned a little, they knew better than anyone how my mind shorted out during lust. "I brought him home, and used him. Painfully."

Connor grinned, "I remember those nights. If he didn't want to marry ye after that, he doesn't deserve ye."

I glared at him, but I was at least a little relieved to hear him cracking wise. "It didn't help, but by then I couldn't take it back. Turned out he was looking for me to get information on the two of you, but I don't think he was prepared for me to molest him. I do think he felt bad about the way it turned out." I looked down at the cigarette burning to ash in my hands and pitched it in the fireplace. Connor lit another for me. I smiled and dragged deep before continuing. "And then I was pregnant."

"He didn't believe ye, that the boy was his?" Murphy asked, an edge to his voice.

I shook my head. "Couldn't blame him, really. I wasn't 100 percent sure, myself. But the blood test told. He and I started seeing more of each other. I quit working. He paid for me to go back to school. Paid for the hospital bills. After Seth was born, we were officially a couple. And, um, after Phil got shot when Seth was about two, we got married." I looked up at the two of them, and they looked back at me. "So," I said.

"Aye, so," Connor said, sitting on the floor in front of me, taking my feet in his hand and rubbing his thumbs into my arches. I could have purred.

"So," Murphy said, sitting beside my legs and pulling me down onto the floor and into his lap.

"I'm gonna crush something, Murph," I said, as I tried to keep my full weight off of him.

"Shut it," he said, but he allowed me to sit on the floor between his thighs, as he leaned back against the couch, his arms around my hips, as I rested my back against his chest. Connor's hands played up my legs and over my feet, and I just breathed them in.

"And yer da?" I asked. And all the awkwardness melted away as they started rambling on about Il Duce. The little place in Ireland they all shared. The sheep. The simple life they left behind. How they met Romeo. How cool the plan had been to hit the Chinese at the docks. I arched my eyebrow at Connor, before asking Murphy how the plan had really gone. Connor pulled me to him, tickling and pinching and I laughed like I was a girl again, then he held me to him as they continued talking. I told them about Seth, and about my new job and how much I liked it. We talked about Doc and about the old regulars at McGuinty's. Talked about Rocco.

Connor's fingers brushed my neck and I felt my body flush. It was the simple contact that was really getting to me tonight, just the fact that it was their hands on my feet. My hands, my face. I leaned into his hand and I felt him grin against my cheek. Murphy flicked his cigarette into the fireplace and scooted closer, his hands lighting on my hips then sliding up my back, then around my waist, his thumbs on my belly, tracing my scar. I saw the question in his eyes, and tried to put into my gaze how much I really didn't' want to talk about it just now. He nodded, slightly before he leaned forward, his lips cool against the fevered skin of my stomach.

I sighed, tangling one hand in his hair and raising the other behind my head to touch Connor's face, his whiskers prickling against my palm. Murphy pushed my shirt up over my head and Connor finished pulling it clear as Murphy fell on my breasts, the hair on his chin torturing my sensitive skin. My back bowed, and Connor's hand pressed against my stomach as he pulled me to him, pressing my back against his chest. I turned my head, my lips finding his earlobe, he exhaled sharply against my throat as his hand traveled down my belly into the waistband of my pants. His fingers teased lower, barely brushing against my clit, when he stopped. I bit down a little harder than strictly necessary on his earlobe and he hissed. Murphy's mouth had stopped moving too and I was about to start bitching when I saw their eyes casting around, tracking the source of a noise.

After taking several deep breaths, I heard it as well, a ringing accompanied by a light buzz. A cell phone. Not my ringtone and for a second I thought it must belong to one of the twins, but then it hit me and I groaned. "Dammit, Nat. You had to say something."

"That yer cell, lass?"

"Not really mine," I said, hauling myself to my feet. "It's the panic cell from the shop."


	9. Chapter 8

Katie was very apologetic as she stuttered into the phone and it was obvious that she was terrified. "Calm down, Katie," I said, my voice authoritative enough that the boys both arched eyebrows at me. "Now tell me what's going on."

Apparently there had been some guys hanging around the shop a couple hours before closing and they had made the kid pretty nervous. Katie had a knack for figuring peoples intentions, it was part of what made her one of my top sellers, and she knew these guys hadn't really been looking to buy anything. Katie finished up with the customer she was with and was then alone in the store with these guys and they kinda closed in on her. Enough to get her a little frazzled, but then another customer came in and they backed off and eventually left.

She hadn't seen them again, until after she locked up and was taking out the trash and heard them at the end of our alley. Very close to where her car, probably the last one in the lot, by this point, was parked. She had tried to call our fearless security guard, but got no response. She said she felt a little silly calling. They hadn't really done anything, so she would have felt stupid calling the cops, but she really didn't' want to walk out to her car alone.

"No, you did the right thing. You just stay put, Katie. I will be right there. Don't leave the store or even the backroom. I'm on my way, give me fifteen minutes," I said as I hung up the phone and reached for my coat.

"Yer not going alone, lass."

"Sure not," Murphy agreed.

"I can't have you two out running around. What if somebody sees you?"

"Not asking yer permission, lass," Connor said as he returned to the hallway and got his own jacket and tossed Murphy his.

"I'll not stay sitting here, not knowing what's happening to ye, that's for certain."

"No, you can't-"

"If ye don't take us with ye, we'll just call Romeo and have him come and pick us up and then we'll follow ye."

"Be simpler to just let us ride along."

I looked back and forth between the two of them, then raised my hands and shook my head. "Fine, but you stay in the car. I'm not going to be the one responsible for you two being spotted." I led the way out the front door and they both scrunched down in my backseat and we headed for the shop.

Pulling in, I could see three young guys, all early to mid twenties, loitering around an older muscle car, parked right next to Katie's sensible little four door. They were drinking, if not drunk already, and they were watching the back alley of the store. "Fuck," I said, pointing the nose of my car down the delivery drive which would let me get my car about ten feet from the back door of the storeroom.

"Lass?" Connor said from under the blanket I had insisted they cover themselves with.

"It's nothing," I said, not as strong as I would have liked. "Just stay put." I put the Jeep in park and jostled my keys to get the backdoor key in my hand as I checked the mirrors to be sure I was alone in the alley. "I'm gonna bring her out and drive her out to her car, just stay quiet, okay?"

"Aye, girl," came Murphy's muffled reply from behind me.

"Okay," I said, popping the door, "five minutes." I closed the door behind me and walked around the nose of the car to the locked back door. I had my key in the door, when Katie unlocked it from the inside and pulled it in. I stumbled in almost on top of her, yanked my key from the door and closed and bolted it behind me. Katie was visibly trembling and I hugged her without thinking. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry to call, Boss, but I didn't know what else to do."

"That's what the phone is there for, Katie. It's no problem, let's just get you home safe, okay? Now you ready to go?"

She nodded as she grabbed her purse and her backpack (did I mention that she was still so very young?). I pushed her behind me as I unlocked the door and looked up and down the alley. The coast was still clear, so I unlocked the passenger side, waved Katie out and climbed in on my side. She held her purse and backpack between her knees (probably a good thing cause if she had tried to toss it in the back she probably would have brained one of the twins) as I backed slowly out of the alley and drove to her car.

The muscle car was parked in the spot next to her drivers side, so we were going to have to deal with them. "Give me your keys," I said, putting the car in park. "Stay put, until I wave you over," I said, eyeing the drunks who were now eyeing us both.

I sensed more than saw her nod next to me as I slunk out of my seat, leaving the door open. I walked around the car, their eyes on me. I turned my back to them and unlocked her door. "Gentlemen, there is a law against loitering in the parking lot here. I only mention it because I'd hate to see you get in any trouble for just hanging around. I'm sure you don't mean any harm, don't mean to threaten anyone."

"Just waiting to talk to a girl," one said, obviously the spokesman.

I cocked my head to one side and shook it a little. "I don't think the girl is all that anxious to talk to you. Especially not drunk as you are, so maybe some other time, huh?" I asked, turning to walk around the front of the car.

"Not leaving," another said, moving to block my path. "Not til we talk to the little blond," he said, his eyes falling on Katie, so young and vulnerable. I felt the hairs on my arms stand up. This, in retrospect, may not have been the smartest move. The guy in front of me outweighed me by at least fifty pounds, and a solid chunk of that was muscle. The spokesman was a foot taller than me, and the third one may have been close to my size, but still had the speed advantage of youth. It wasn't so much I was worried about getting the hell beat out of me, but drunk as these guys were, it was Katie I was worried about once I was knocked unconscious. I was sure the twins wouldn't let anything happen to the kid, but I was also equally certain that things were not going to turn out well for these three dumbasses if my Saints heard me go down. The last thing I needed was for them to get spotted. *gulp* Yeah, this wasn't the most well-laid plan.

"Here's the thing, though," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "The little blond has been working for ten hours, she's ready to go home. I'm ready to go home. I think it would be better for all of us, if we all just went home. Don't you think?" I asked turning back to the spokesman.

He shrugged and I backtracked, meaning to walk along the back of the car to the open door of my Jeep, but the third blocked my way as the spokesman's hand clamped on my bicep. I tensed. "Look," I said, my voice dropping, "I'm going to plead to the spark of reason that I'm sure must be in there somewhere under the six pack or so of alcohol that you've ingested this evening…you don't want to do this. I mean, you **really** don't want to do this. You keep this up and you are causing trouble for yourself on so many levels, so do us all a favor: back the hell up. Let me get my employee into her car. She goes home. I go home, and you boys go sleep it off somewhere. What do you say?"

He smirked and I had time to think 'Oh, hell' before I sensed the blow coming. I ducked and avoided his first swing. I heard Katie gasp as I swung with her keys fetching him a glancing blow as he flinched away to keep his eyes safe. I saw a small track of blood open on his cheek, before I turned to the smallest of the three, my weakest link and my most likely chance at an exit. I landed a right cross on his jaw, which was apparently lined with Adamantium, because he was barely even stunned. Just then I felt a hand clamp onto my bicep and my body was spun directly into the second guy's meaty fist as it landed on my cheekbone and stars exploded behind my eyes. I heard a pained cry leave my mouth before I could clench my teeth over it. As I started to slump to one knee, I heard Katie start screaming as the back doors of my Jeep were thrown open and my super-pissed, gun-toting, fist-fighting Irish vigilante exes leaped into the fray.

Even in the close-quarters between the two cars my boys made short work of the three much younger guys. I heard one drop and stay down even as the second went to his knees and worked his way back up. The spokesman was slow to move into the fight, but I heard a punch land just above me followed by the scuffling that accompanied men scrambling around trying to bloody each other in a gravel parking lot. I was still trying to shake the fuzzy from my head, when tiny hands went under my arms and dragged me out of the middle of the melee. Katie propped me up against the rear bumper of her car and we both watched my boys take the trio apart.

I felt one side of my mouth quirk up in a half-ass grin as Connor took the spokesman down and he remained down, then they both laid into the kid that had smacked me. The poor kid bounced back and forth between them taking a blow to the face then careening back into the other who would pop him again, sending him back to the other twin. The guy was unconscious on his feet when he finally dropped to his knees then fell face first onto the gravel. My boys stood over the prone body for a second, breathing deeply, their bodies tense, their fists clenched.

Katie moved her foot, her shoe scraping against the rocks and it brought them back from wherever they had been. They both looked at us, dropped their shoulders and walked over, stepping over bodies as they came. "Are ye alright, then, lass?" Connor asked, his hands light on my face.

"Aye," I agreed, though I could feel my face swelling as I sat there.

"And you, wee one?" Murphy asked, looking over at Katie.

"Um, I'm fine," she said, her voice shaky.

"Think you'll be okay to make it home?" I asked, forcing my hand open to pry her keys from my fist.

She nodded, slowly, "But, are you gonna be okay?" Katie asked me, eyeing the boys.

I snorted. "I'll be fine. Just need to get cleaned up," I started to move and Murphy put a hand under my elbow and Connor moved to my other side to get under my arm and they lifted me to my feet. Katie sat beside her bumper watching the boys look me over. Murphy looking closely at my cheek as Connor dusted the dirt and grime off of my pants, then turned me to him so he could take a look at my face. "I'm fine," I said, half-smiling, before turning to Katie. I extended a hand and pulled her up, handing her the keys. "No need to go mentioning this to anyone, Katie, okay?"

"No, ma'am, Boss," she said, taking her keys. Murphy sauntered back to the car, grabbed her purse and backpack and brought them over, tossing them across the driver's seat to the empty side of Katie's car. "Um, thank you," she said, dropping into the seat.

"Don't mention it," Connor said, closing her door.

Katie started her car and pulled out carefully avoiding the bodies littering the parking lot and disappeared into the night. The three of us, climbed back into my car. Connor taking the wheel, Murphy in the back. We were halfway back to the house, when Murphy said, "Sure handled that well on yer own, girl."

I rolled my eyes, "Oh shut up," I said as they started laughing.


	10. Chapter 9

"Please stop fussing," I shouted, as I pulled my first-aid kit from the bathroom closet. The raised voices from my kitchen stopped and I walked back into the room. The twins stood in front of my open freezer, Connor with a packaged T-bone in his hand and Murphy with a bag of fresh, frozen niblets. I arched an eyebrow, "Are you planning to make me dinner?" I asked, as I set the kit on the counter.

"Ye need to get something on that eye, lass," Connor said, waving the frozen steak at me.

I laughed a little, "Please put my groceries back in there. On the door, there's an eyemask that I use when I get a headache." They both turned and saw the green mask complete with a headstrap. Connor snatched it and thrust his steak into Murphy's chest. Murphy took them both and returned them to the freezer as Connor came towards me with the mask. I adjusted it over one eye, then made them both sit down and face me. They had come out of the fight no worse for wear. Just a few skinned knuckles but I intended to clean them up all the same. Wouldn't my face be red if my boys couldn't take down little Yaka because they caught a staph infection?

I could still feel their bodies thrumming under my hands and I smiled to myself thinking how great it was that some things never changed. I cleaned tiny flaps of skin on their fingers with alcohol wipes and lathered on Neosporin. It wasn't even enough to bandage. "Nothing like the old days, eh, lass?" Connor asked as I was finishing up with Murphy's left hand.

I laughed in my throat. "No," I said, "good to see that you two have stopped treating with a steam iron."

"Haven't needed to," Murphy said as he winced at the sting of the alcohol.

I shook my head, taking stronger hold of his hand, "You're worse than Seth," I giggled, "hold still, I'm almost done."

"Sweatin' like a pig," Connor said, abruptly. I inhaled deeply and I could, in fact, smell the heat coming off of him, and my nethers twitched a little in response.

"Yup," I agreed, my voice a little deeper than it was, as I applied antiseptic to Murphy's hands.

"Hate t' ask, lass, but don't suppose I could grab a shower since we're here?" I felt Murphy's hand tense in my own and as I glanced up at him, I saw him glaring at Connor.

"Oh hell, yeah," I said, arching an eyebrow, "sorry, I hadn't even thought to offer. Sure, come with me," I hopped off of the stool, dropped my eyemask onto the counter, pecked Murphy on the cheek, and took Connor's hand, leading him up the stairs to the guest bathroom. His hand slid out of mine before I hit the second floor landing and I stopped to look back.

His eyes were downcast. "Ye still have quite the arse on ye, lass," he said, grinning up at me.

I felt my face flush as I turned from him and continued up the steps. "Shut up," I said, smiling.

"Are ye blushing?"

"Shut up," I repeated as I turned into the bathroom, flicking on the lights. I stepped in, snapping the curtain back making sure it was presentable, then pulling towels from the cupboard. I looked up and Connor stood, shirtless in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame and my breath caught.

"Ye've not lost it, lass. Yer walk, yer smile. Still get me hard just looking at yer mouth."

"Stop," I said, shaking my head, my voice catching, a sob in my throat, as I turned away, dropping towels on the closed toilet.

"Ye are getting red," he said, his voice quizzical, as he moved forward. "Never made ye blush before."

"Not true," I said, raising a finger. "You used to make me blush all the time."

"This is different," he said, his hand on my hip, stilling me as he turned me to face him.

"Leave it alone, Connor," I said, turning away from him.

"Lass?" he said, pressing his body against mine from behind, his arms over my shoulders, crisscrossing his forearms across my chest, holding me close, his face alongside mine. "What is it?"

I sighed, deeply, my body melting against his. Even after all this time, he could still read me like a book and leaning against him, I felt my calm return. "Nothing," I said, my hands cupping around his forearms.

"Bullshit," he said, kissing my ear. "What did I say that has ye near sobbin?"

I laughed a little. "Just been…a while." I felt him tense behind me.

"Fer what?"

I shook my head. "Since I felt…"I trailed off, that was gonna open up a whole conversation I didn't want to have. "Forget it," I said, rubbing my hand up and down his arm, his arms loosened and I took a step forward. His fingers on my shoulders stilled me, his thumbs working in small circles just inside of my shoulderblades. I sighed, my neck rolling to one side, my back arching, pressing my ass against him. His hands worked in, one hand over my throat, the other across the back of my neck, his thumbs a constant pressure as his fingers crept up into my hair and over my mouth. I felt my thighs heat up and my nethers clench. "Connor," I breathed, as I slid my hands up his arm, pressing his fingers against my lips one by one. I felt him smile against my neck as he kissed lightly down the slope of my shoulder, slowly pulling my shirt to one side, nipping at my skin gently as he made his way down.

"Take off yer shirt, lass," he whispered, his breath warm and moist against me. My hands moved all on their own to the hem of the tshirt I was wearing and pulled it up over my head. His fingers played over my bare skin, leaving fire in their wake, down my arms, over my belly, to my sides, where he took hold of me and turned me to face him, pressing me back against the counter, the finish a cold shock against my naked back.

His mouth closed over mine, his kiss insistent, but slow, his eyes open, meeting mine. I whined into him as he worked the clasp on my bra, opening it with a little more trouble than I remembered him ever having before and I almost smiled. My bra came loose and he dragged it down my arms, the slow movement of the satiny material almost unbearable. He took both of my hands in his and pulled them out away from my body as his mouth broke away from mine. He stepped back, looking down at my body. I pulled against him, instinctively wanting to cover the extra weight, the less-than-perky breasts, but Connor wasn't having it. His grip on my wrists doubled as he went to his knees in front of me.

His chest pressed against my legs as he moved in on me. His face against my breasts, rubbing, like a cat, scenting. His lips settled in between them, kissing and licking, his facial hair prickling pleasantly. I arched towards him, pressing him backwards, but his mouth never left my skin. He moved down slowly, over my protruding stomach, his tongue making circles around my belly button. His lips moved over my knife wound, then below it, just above the waist of my pants. Over to one side, tracing over my ribs, then up to my breasts.

He released my wrists, gliding his hands to my chest, taking a breast in each hand. Massaging one, he held the other, rubbing his thumb back and forth over my nipple and it hardened under his touch so much it was almost painful. He took it between his teeth, holding it and flicking his tongue over it, and it felt so good I could have cried. My fingers tangled in his hair as I begged him 'don't stop'. He made a full mouthed negative sound, and I smiled. He moved to the other breast repeating the treatment and I was soaked and all I wanted was to get out of my pants.

He read my mind, same as he always had, and slowly slid his hands down to my waist, dragging my pants off of my hips, inching them down my legs, the sensation by itself was intoxicating and combined with the work his mouth was doing on my breasts, I may as well have been intoxicated off my ass.

My pants pooled at my feet, and he released my breast, setting his chin against my belly, looking up at me between my boobs as his hands slid over the skin of my calves, lifting one foot out of my clothes, then the other. I smiled down at him, my fingers running through his hair. "You're not gonna get showered like this, Conn."

He grinned that mischievous grin and I shivered. His hands tracked back up my legs, over my hips and settled on the counter on either side of my body as he pulled away from me. I whined in protest, until he stood up, pressing his body against the length of mine. He kissed my mouth softly as his hands moved back to my hips, then spun me away from him, turning me to fully face the mirror. I self-consciously crossed my arms in front of me again. Connor ran his hands over the bare skin of my arms, and while suckling my earlobe, he gently took my wrists in his hands and pulled my arms away again. "Aye, lass," he said around my earlobe, as his calloused hands glided back up my arms, traced over my shoulders, then up my neck, dragging an uneven fingernail along my skin, bringing goosebumps in it's wake.

His lips made soft contact where my shoulder met my neck and set a brushfire in my blood. I shivered. I felt him smile against my skin and I rolled my eyes, "Shut up," I breathed.

His hands caressed down my sides, over the swell of my hips, around to my belly, stroking, then back to my hips as his ground into mine, pressing me almost painfully into the counter. My fingers arched against the cool tile of the counter as his mouth once again found the skin at the back of my neck. He softly and slowly kissed down my spine, lowering himself to his knees. I heard myself growl as his lips passed over my tattoo.

He paused, breathing against my hot spot, "Ah, I remember this spot, lass," he said, kissing just above it. "I remember how ye'd be instantly wet if I touched it," he said, kissing an inch to the left of it. "The way ye'd push back at me if I even got close to it," he said, kissing just to the right of it, as my eyes closed and I arched my back. "How ye'd howl if I put my mouth to it," he said, licking just below it, his nose almost touching it. "I missed this spot, lass. I loved this spot."

I licked my lips and sighed, "I missed you, too, Connor." His fingers clamped hard into my hips as his open soft mouth and tongue landed on the one spot on my body that had always been my undoing and I shrieked, my toes curled, and my back arched.

He leaned his forehead hard into my spine as he continued making out with the skin at the small of my back, holding me in place against the counter. My knees were already shaking when his hand slid between my thighs and knuckled my clit through my damp panties. I mewled.

With no warning, he was back on his feet, his hands hard on my hips as he lifted me forward onto the counter. My exposed nipples hadn't even finished reacting to the frigid tile before my panties were gone. I heard his jeans hit the floor behind me as he grabbed my hips again, pulling me back to him. I could feel the pulse through his member…way too low to be of any use to either of us.

Had I mentioned this was the bathroom the husband used and that he is, as Murphy so delicately put it, 'a big bastard' and the counter was correspondingly very high? Not that this was an obstacle for Connor. I felt him pulling me down, sliding me onto his hard cock, filling me an inch at a time and I shuddered, unable to catch my breath. His hands settled lower on my hips and he started moving me up and down on him, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed. I tried to draw a breath to call his name, but found that I couldn't. The height of the counter and his angle had my diaphragm pressed hard into the edge and I couldn't get my lungs to expand. I could feel my face going red and spots started to collect in my vision as Connor's pace became more frantic.

I groaned, silently, as I pulled myself back up onto the counter and off of him. A pained noise escaped him as I finally got into a position to take a deep breath. "Lass?"

"Couldn't breathe," I panted, looking back over my shoulder at him. "Bed. Let's get into bed."

His only response was to flip me onto my back on the counter, pull me off the edge, and slide me down onto him again, the feeling all the more exquisite this time as my clit snugged up against his pubic bone. I moaned, calling his name. I braced my elbows against the counter as my legs slid around his hips. He thrusted hard into me, three, four, five times, each time a little less deep than the last. I pulled him to me with my legs, encouraging him to deepen his thrusts, he did a small shuffle step, then continued again. Five, six, seven times, until he started to slide out again. "Connor?" I asked my voice, quiet, as I watched frustration cross his features. "What-"

"Why have ye not got floor mats, lass? I can't keep my feet under me."

I laughed out loud until he stepped forward again, entering me fully, and the laughter died in my throat. "Connor," I whined. "Let's just get into bed."

He sighed, dropping his head, as he withdrew, pushing me back onto the counter. "I can't."

I felt my brow furrow and my hands crossed over my body again, self-consciously. "Can't?" I asked.

"No, lass," he said, taking my wrists again and baring me to his eyes. "Ye are beautiful. And I want ye. Badly. Worse than I can ever remember, but…" he trailed off.

"But?" I asked him, touching his chest, my fingers tangling in his chest hair.

"I can't…take ye…in yer bed. Where... Ye sleep with yer husband in that bed, lass."

I smiled, shaking my head at him. "Connor?" I began, running my hands up his chest, cupping his face and tilting his chin so he could meet my eyes. "The house? Has four bedrooms."

His face lit up, like a kid's on Christmas morning. "Truly?"

I laughed and nodded, "Aye."

He leaned forward and slung me onto his shoulder, smacked my bare ass with an open hand, "Which way, then?"

I giggled, "Out the door, turn right, second door on the right."

He followed my directions and practically kicked in the door. Once he set me on the ground, it was on. My hands were in his hair as I crushed his lips to mine. One of his hands found my nipple, tweaking, and the other found my clit again, plucking the hyperactive little bundle of nerves like a guitar string. I was moaning against his mouth as we stumbled back until my knees hit the edge of the bed and I dropped onto my ass on the bedspread. His hands went under my arms and practically flung me back into the center of the mattress. Then he was on top of me.

My breath left as the heat of his body pressed in on mine. His mouth fell to my breasts biting, suckling. His hand trailed down my belly to my damp slit, sliding his middle and index finger into me as his thumb went to work on my clit. My body started to shiver as I felt the orgasm building. My hands found his back and did my very best to rip him to shreds as I cried out his name over and over again. His mouth left my breast and found my neck. He licked up and down my throat, exhaling warm heat over the dampness. "Oh, Jesus,Connor, yeah, that's it, right there."

His fingers split from each other just then, scissoring back and forth inside of me and I came undone, a scream ripping from my throat as my back arched, by entire body tensed and quivering. I was still shaking, when he withdrew his fingers, bringing them to my neck, inhaling deeply. "I'd forgotten the smell of ye, lass."

I tried to smile, but his mouth closed over mine as he slid an arm under my hips, lifting me from the bed slightly. I still hadn't stopped shaking, when he lined up and slammed into me, my breath coming in pants and my legs spasming around his hips. He laid down on top of me, pressing me hard into the mattress as he thrust in and out of me, holding my hips tight to his own, his stomach muscles clenching and unclenching against my belly. "Aw, lass," he sighed against my neck.

My hands instinctively clenched in the sheets at my side as I bucked my hips to meet his thrusts. "Oh, God, Connor," I cried against his shoulder.

"Touch me, lass. Put yer hands on me," he grunted as he continued his assault. I slid my fingers over his arms, feeling the strength there, then around the back of his neck, teasing the short hair at the nape. I left one hand, tangled in his hair, as my other reached under his arm then ran up and down his back.

He readjusted his arm underneath me just then, changing his angle inside of me, and my legs went around his hips, sharpening the contact, squeezing him to me, opening myself up more as he penetrated deeper and deeper. My cries were rising in pitch and volume, thrust after glorious thrust, until I could feel the rise of another orgasm. His pace was becoming uncontrolled and I knew he was just as close as I was. I slid my fingers into his hair and forced him to meet my eyes, his face had changed, but the eyes were exactly the same. And I owed the man behind those eyes. I bit my lips to stifle my cries as his body went tense with impending release. "I've never stopped loving you, Connor."

His eyes went wide and he thrust one final time, hard enough to press my body further into the pillow-top. The knot of pleasure that had been swelling in my belly exploded and I screamed and he came above me with a cry of his own, before his body went limp and collapsed on top of me. Our breathing was rapid and shallow and I didn't even have the energy to unwrap my legs from his waist. He removed his arm from under my hips and I felt him slide out of me. He placed his elbows on either side of my head and kissed me gently. Tenderly. Beautifully. He rolled off of me, sliding one arm under my head as he gathered me to his chest, taking my hand in his and kissing my fingertips one by one. "I love ye, as well, lass. Never stopped. Never will."

He was decent enough not to mention the steady stream of salt water pouring out of my eyes and onto his chest although he had to have noticed it.


	11. Chapter 10

Connor, as was still his habit, apparently, was asleep and snoring in less than a minute. I very slowly got out of bed and retreated to my bedroom. I opened the closet and withdrew a red kimono-type robe that I had bought when it came into the store a few years back. Around the time that I had been trying to add spice back into my marriage. Phil had been less than impressed, but it had managed to make me feel attractive, even if he didn't see it, and tonight was certainly a night to feel attractive, wanted. Loved. Tying the belt tight around my middle, I tiptoed downstairs to find Murphy.

I found him sitting with his back to my couch, staring into the cold fireplace, a beer on the floor next to him, a cigarette in one hand, and Seth's picture in the other. "Murph?" I asked, as I came around the corner. His head snapped around to me and looked me up and down, hungrily. I smiled a little, dropping my eyes. When I met his gaze again, he was looking at my face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave you down here alone for that long."

"Did Connor get his shower, then?" I smirked and looked away. He grinned and nodded, "Thought what I was hearing didn't have anything to do with getting clean."

"We got pretty clean that morning at the flat in the shower, Murphy, if you remember," I said, settling down on the floor beside him.

He grinned, "I remember."

"What are you doing, sitting in here in the dark?"

He shrugged. "Didn't know what your normal schedule was, didn't want to go flippin on a bunch o' lights and attract attention from yer neighbors."

I nodded, "Good point."

"I was goin ta start a fire…"

I looked up at him, "Could you?"

"O'course, I could, girl. If ye want."

"Great," I said, standing and clearing pictures off the mantelpiece. I knew in theory it was perfectly safe to leave them up there, but it had always made me nervous.

"Ye've had the chimney swept this season, aye?" Murphy asked, gathering up a few hunks of wood from the holder beside the fireplace.

"Oh yeah, every year, now."

"Now?" he asked, his eyebrow arched.

I grinned, blushing, "Yeah, now. My first stint as Seth's den mom, the campout got cancelled cause of a freak snowstorm," I said as I placed all the removed pictures on a desk in the corner. "So I brought all the scouts here, and lit the fireplace to roast weenies and marshmallows?"

"Aye," Murphy said, his back to me, but I could hear the smile in his voice.

"…and I nearly burned the joint down."

His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter as he arranged the wood in the grate and set the kindling to smolder. It took him a second but when he started talking again there was no trace of laughter in his tone. "Yer old man doesn't light it?"

I shook my head. "Naw, not really."

"Shame," he said, standing and moving back to sit beside me where I sat in front of the couch."Keep ours lit all the time back home," he said as he held out his arm for me to cuddle to his chest. We both looked forward, watching the flames slowly growing. "Tell me about your boy," he said after a few moments.

I smiled. "I could go on and on. What do you want to know?"

"His name's Seth and he's almost 10. What's he like? What does he do?"

"Everything," I said, all puffed up with maternal pride. "He's very athletic. Loves to box, but he's still a fair hockey and baseball player. We had him in football for a year, but I was a nervous wreck, and I accidentally on purpose forgot to sign his permission form the following year and thank God he decided he was happier not playing. He likes to shoot zombies in video games. He's still young enough to think I'm cool. We watch horror movies together when his dad isn't around. He's smart as hell. And I love him more than I ever thought I could love another person in my life." He was quiet out of my sight. "How's that?"

"Yer a ma," he said, his voice wistful, almost…sad, I thought listening.

"That I am."

"I wasn't expectin' that," he said, in the same tone.

I tried to turn my head enough to see his face, but couldn't quite manage it, so I slid my head down his stomach, stretching out on my back, resting my head in his lap. I reached a hand up and touched his cheek. "You almost sound sad."

"A little," he said, honestly. "Not that you've got a son, girl, I'm thrilled that ye have a boy, just…I suppose, sad that I don't as well," he said, looking down at me. I got it. He wanted Seth to be his. I bit my lip.

"I can't apologize, Murph. I wouldn't trade him for anything."

He shook his head, looking back into the fire, taking my hand in his and kissing my palm. "I'd think a hell of a lot less of ye, if ye would, girl."

I smiled up at him. "Thanks," I said, as he looked back down at me. The firelight playing over the sharp angles of his face, the orange light giving his alabaster skin a healthy glow. "The pair of you never stopped mattering to me, Murph. My heart just kind of expanded to hold all of you."

"We've not been with any other women." I arched an eyebrow up at him. "Well, I mean, we've bedded other women, just haven't **been** with any others, not any that mattered as it were," he said as he laid his hand on the bare skin of my chest where the robe opened, his thumb stroking lightly. "And never both of us together. Not since you."

I smiled, turning my head to the fire. I didn't know how to respond to that. I was thinking 'Good.' But considering that I was a married mother, that seemed a little unfair, so I just shut up and didn't say anything. See how mature I've become in my old age?

"Ye've not changed, girl."

I laughed deep in my throat. "You've not looked close enough, Murphy."

"Looking now."

I turned my head to him and stared up at him. "Thank you for that." I said, touching his face.

He turned back to the fire again, and I did as well, tracing my fingers up and down the seams of his jeans as his thumb absently stroked my chest. Several silent minutes went by before he asked, "Why have we never fucked in front of a fire before?", his eyes roaming over my face, my hair, the bare skin of my arms and chest.

I laughed again, "We never had a fireplace before."

"Aye, I suppose so," he said, still staring. "What say ye come up here to me and we can change that?"


	12. Chapter 11

I sat up, then spun to face him to find that he had turned as well, putting the couch at his side rather than at his back, his face half-in and half-out of the firelight, and I came to him. He sat cross-legged and I spread my knees over his thighs and slid home, settling comfortably onto his groin. He brought his hands up to my face, cupping my cheeks, winding the locks closest to my face around his fingers, his thumbs caressing my cheekbones.

I licked my lips as I ran my fingers over his, he pursed them briefly, kissing my fingertips as they passed. I passed my thumb over the beauty mark at the side of his mouth, before sliding my hand down to his neck, his skin smooth and cool as I explored into his hair, my thumb on his earlobe.

His fingers still twined around my hair, pulled me ever so gently, closer to his face. The firelight somehow made his eyes more gray, but as I got closer I could make out the breathtaking color of them. He tilted my head down, kissing my forehead, then each eye, then my nose. My head tilted all on instinct as his lips closed in on mine, then locked.

A slow, sensual kiss, but no less passionate for it's lack of urgency or speed. Our mouths remembered each other and it was as incredible as it had always been. When I kissed Connor, it was always near violence, our tongues fighting each other, battling for domination, biting each others lips. But with Murphy, it wasn't like that. Our tongues shared each other's mouths, an occasional suckle of the other's bottom lip, but then straight back to the dance that we both knew the steps to. Soft, but insistent. Passionate, but gentle. And slow, taking our time, never rushing. No where to go. Nothing else in the world existed when Murphy was kissing me, nothing else mattered.

All that being said, Murphy's mouth on mine was always more than enough to get me damp and aroused. I ground my hips against his, in a rhythm that complimented the pace that our mouths had taken up, and I could feel him hardening through his jeans against my body, still naked under the robe. Murphy's hands slid down the silken material covering my back to squeeze my ass briefly. I moaned into his mouth, never interrupting the rhythm. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I pressed myself tighter to him.

His hands slid down my legs to my knees where they rested beside his hips on the floor, then slid back up my thighs, his fingers blessedly gentle against my skin where they sneaked beneath the robe. His thumbs traced over the arch of my hips as his fingers ghosted softly over my ass. They continued up until he was stopped short by the belt knotted around my waist, then his hands circled forward, tracing around my sides, my belly, his thumbs tracking low enough to barely brush my clit, before he withdrew his hands. I moaned into his mouth.

His hands moved up my front, teasing my nipples to hardened nubs through the silky material and I whimpered. His hands continued up to my neck, into my hair as he gently pulled my face away from his. I whined, breathlessly.

He settled his face into the crook of my neck where it met my shoulder and I could feel him grin. "Did ye not want to stop, girl?"

From my vantage point I licked a stripe up the shell of his ear as I breathed deeply the smell of him, "I could kiss you for days, Murphy."

He planted a soft kiss against my skin and I shivered as his hands glided down my shoulders, sliding his fingers under my arms and looking behind me. "Aye, myself as well. But," he began as he brought himself to his knees, leaning me back against the ottoman at the foot of the nearest armchair, "if I'm kissing ye," he said, lifting my hips, laying me out flat on my back across the length of the stool, never breaking eye contact, and parting the short material of my robe away from my heated thighs, "then my mouth can't be doin'," he continued, as he gently spread my knees apart, his breath warm on my dampness, now blissfully exposed to him. "This," he said, my eyes locked on his until his tongue dipped into my folds, finding my clit immediately, causing my head to rock back as I cried out.

My fingers clenched in the cushion of the ottoman as he went to work, his mouth as soft as I remembered and his tongue as skilled. His hands slid up my thighs, his thumbs spreading me open allowing him more room to work in me. My toes curled as he pressed harder into me, his nose now nudging my clit as his tongue moved further south, penetrating me as he shot it in and out of his mouth at a frantic pace. My back arched as he began to growl, the sound reverberating through my nethers, the feeling delightfully ticklish and deep. My fingers moved down into his hair, tangling it around my fingers as his tongue licked short rapid strokes then switched to luxuriously long stripes the length of my slit.

The noises rolling from my throat had gotten deeper and more guttural as he moved back to my clit, nibbling and sucking, his fingers now sliding into me. I arched as my body started to quiver. I heard myself calling his name as my legs started to spasm, locking themselves around his head. I started to shake as his name quickly became a series of syllables that couldn't be recognized as words. What rational part of my brain was still functioning was thinking that if I didn't come soon I was going to explode, as his teeth moved back from my clit and he repeated the switching back and forth between the short and long licks, his speed perfect, his technique flawless.

I felt my fingers clench and my back arch a split second before an involuntary scream that may have started out as his name but just devolved into a long, low howl poured from my mouth as his ever so skilled mouth brought me to my finish. I came over and over again, my body just beginning to relax, when he would nudge my clit again with his nose or his lips and I'd start over. When I was certain that he couldn't possibly still be breathing down there, he pulled me forward enough to expose my ass cheek that he promptly slapped hard enough to sting and I came one more time, screaming.

As I slowly became aware again, I realized my breathy exhales were still moans and whimpers. I closed my mouth to wet my sore and very dry throat. "Fuck me, Murph," I exclaimed, breathless.

"In a bit, girl. Got to let ye get yer breath back, first."

I laughed deep in my throat as I willed my fingers to relax in his hair, as I became aware of his weight across my thighs. I could barely see him over my still heaving breasts so I slowly propped myself up on my elbows to look down at him. His arms were crossed over the tops of my thighs, his chin resting on his wrists as he stared up at me, the half-ass grin on his face visible in the firelight.

I arched an eyebrow at him, "What?"

"I missed listening to yer noises, girl. Especially the ones ye make when I'm going down on ye."

"Shut up," I said, feeling color creeping up my face. He reached up with one hand, running his so familiar fingers over my nipple, hardening it with no effort, as a gasp/groan slid out from between my lips.

"Missed that one, too," he said, his grin no longer half-ass, but full and beaming.

"Think I don't remember what makes you moan, Murphy McManus?" I said sitting up, my body still twitching, as I set my hands to his shoulders, pushing him back. I tried to get my feet under me, but my legs were still too pleasantly weak so I slid off the ottoman onto his lap, my knees on the floor beside his hips. His hands went around my waist then stroked my back, slowly.

I latched onto his mouth, kissing him thoroughly as I peeled his shirt off only breaking away long enough to whip it over his head. My fingers found the hairs at the nape of his neck and stroked upwards, eliciting a shiver and a sound. I pulled my mouth back and repeated the move. "What was that?"

"Nothing," he replied, grinning.

I arched my eyebrow again. "Oh? Ok," I said, moving my mouth down his jaw to a spot just beside his pulse as my fingers roamed his bare chest until I found his nipples with my thumbs. I licked and rubbed simultaneously and felt him tense. He bit his lip and exhaled harshly through his nose.

"Sorry," I said, tilting my ear towards him, "did you say something?"

"No," he said, licking a stripe up the shell of my ear. I shivered against him as I closed my mouth over his again. My hands worked down his chest to his happy trail, my nails lightly scratching through the spiky hair below his belly button. He moaned into my mouth.

I pulled back. "I know I heard something that time."

"Nope," he said, his fair skin flushed. "Nothing."

"Have it your way, Murph, make me play dirty," I said closing my mouth over his again. Sliding my hands further down, I made short work of his belt, button and zipper. Reaching into his boxers, I closed my hands around his hardness and slowly drew it out. I felt him shudder under my touch as his hands flattened against my ass, an increasing pressure trying to lift me into position for him to slide into me. I pressed against his hands as I scooted down his legs. He made a disappointed noise as I pulled away from his lips. "Nope," I said, settling on my elbows between his thighs, "too late."

"Naw, girl," he protested, almost panicked, as he pulled at my shoulders.

I looked up at him confused. "No? I gotta say that the first time I've ever heard that from a man."

"No," he repeated, "it's just… come here, will ye?"

"What, Murph?"

"Ye…can't. Ye kiss yer son with yer mouth, girl. I'll not have ye—" he trailed off, a deep throated groan rolling out of his mouth as I licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, hard to do as I smiled.

Mission accomplished, I came back to my knees and crawled towards him, "Not with my tongue, I don't, Murphy."

He grabbed me roughly then, pulling me across his lap and kissing me as he edged me back to the ottoman. I went willingly enough, laying back luxuriantly across the little upholstered footstool. He slowly came to his knees between my thighs, pressing his solid stomach against my still twitching, still damp slit. Looking down at me, his strong fingers went to work on the soft tie of my robe. I touched his hands as they worked, having missed the feel of them moving under my fingers. Slowly the tie gave and he laid it, unhurried on either side of me, letting it hang off the sides of the ottoman.

His fingers slowly worked under the edge of the material, the smooth side of his fingernails dragging over my skin, leaving heat in their wake. He separated the material just enough to bare a thin strip of my skin from my neck down to the hair covering my mound. He started there, between my pubic hair and my belly button, his mouth soft and warm, kissing and licking up my middle, his body gently settling over mine, until he got to my neck, his body laid over my own, pressing me down, his erection grinding into my groin. I pulled him tight against me, needing the feeling of his skin against my own.

I felt him grin against my throat, before he peeled my hands from his body and stood up. He smiled down at me, his hands thumbs hooked in the waist of his pants, sliding them and his boxers down. By the time hit the floor, I was up on my elbows, licking my lips obscenely. "Lie back, girl," he said, his voice like satin against my naked skin, and I obliged.

He straddled my naked hips with his own, his fingers running up the small exposed strip of my skin, then he stopped. His hands slid under the robe at my hips, the material laying on top of his hands, as he traced his way up from my hips, over my belly, to my ribs, opening the robe slowly as they continued their trip. I was arching my breasts up to him long before his hands got there and my nipples were rock hard when the robe finally fell away from them. Murphy laid the material to the side, unwrapping me like a Christmas present, then ran his fingers up between my breasts, then one hand over each of them, taking both nipples between his fingers, twisting them this way and that. I started to moan.

I arched my hips towards him as much as I could while he was sitting on them. He stood again, moving back to stand between my knees again. He ran a finger up my slit, making sure I was still ready for him, before he took hold of my knees, slinging them over his shoulders, and pulling me closer to him as he knelt on the very edge of the footstool.

I could feel the pulse of blood through his cock as he lined up at my entrance, then straightened his body, his knees on the edge of the stool and his body at a right angle to the floor. As he straightened, my body rose with him, until only the top half of my back and my head were still on the cushion. I felt him slide into me, deliciously slow and almost painfully filling. I gasped, a pleased moan at the end of the breath.

His hands still on my knees, he held still for a second before withdrawing just as slowly, then sliding my knees, down from his shoulders to the outside of his arms, my knees resting just over the crooks of his elbow. His hands on my thighs, he moved forward again, the approach of his body spreading my thighs further apart and the pressure almost bending me in half. I could barely breathe, I felt full enough to split in two and he was in me so deep that I thought I could feel him in the back of my throat.

And it was the most fantastic feeling in the entire fucking world.

He pulled out again, his pace never changing, torturously slow and I almost started to cry, the pain/pleasure line was so blissfully blurred. I arched my hips before he slid home again and the change in the angle caused him to cry out in pleasure. "Aye, girl, stay just like that."

I couldn't do anything but nod, as he slid in and out of me, each slow thrust perfect, my body coiling a little more every time. I couldn't reach anything but his hands where they rested on my thighs, so I took hold of them, entwining our fingers as I moved my body to meet his.

It didn't take long before we were both sweating with exertion and the heat from the damn fire, and soon after that, Murphy's pace sped slightly. I could feel his control slipping and none too soon, because I couldn't take much more. He pulled nearly out of me and paused. I looked up at him, desperation in my eyes, he couldn't leave me like this.

"Ready?" he asked

I was afraid to ask for what so I just nodded. He grinned down at me, just before he slammed into me up to the hilt. I did scream that time. The depth, the stretching. Fast, hard and dirty. I barely had enough time to draw a breath before he slammed into me again. He repeated the motion, over and over, before my fingers clenched into his hand, no doubt drawing blood with my nails, my legs spasmed and my toes curled as the wave of pleasure crashed over me, again and again. I felt tears leaking from my eyes as I tried to scream but couldn't find the breath, twitching under Murphy's assault. Somewhere distant, I could hear him grunting as he pounded into me over and over, bringing fresh whimpers from me with each movement. When the quivering of my body finally began to subside, he thrust hard one last time, bowing my body until nothing but my shoulders and neck supported my weight. He came with a pained cry, the twitch inside of me as he unloaded sending me over the edge again. I was slowly lowered onto my back as I felt his body go limp, his hands loosening from mine. When I was flat again, he collapsed forward, boneless, the cool length of his body atop my own. Still damp with perspiration, his skin was a balm to the heat still smoldering under my own.

His cheek pressed to my still pounding heart, my hands fell useless onto his back, unable to muster the energy to do more than just lay there. I could feel him breathing, but I couldn't quite get my body to move to look at him. A particularly strong aftershock ran through my body and I moaned again. I felt him smile against me. A thick swallow, "Ye alright?"

I smiled to myself, "I'm glorious, Murph. I've never been better." He snorted, amused, against my skin.

"I'll not be able to make it up all those stairs for a bit still, girl."

I groaned. I had forgotten the stairs. "Ugh, me either."

"Then come down here with me," he said, sliding off of me, reaching back a long arm and snagging cushions off the couch. He laid them side by side in front of the fire. I grabbed a blanket off the back of the armchair and slid to the floor myself. I crawled to the cushions, laid on my side and Murphy curled to my back, pulling the blanket over us. He rested his arm under my head, slinging the other one over my hip, his fingers tracing shapes on my belly. I had forgotten how comfortable this was. It still felt a little strange, but only because Connor was still snoring upstairs. I was so warm and sated that I had started to nod off when I heard Murphy's voice.

My eyes snapped open, "What, sorry?"

He kissed my neck softly. "I asked what this scar was from?" he asked, fingering the knife scar on my belly. "Wanted to ask since I saw it, but…" he trailed off.

"I'm surprised you lasted this long, Murph," I said, smiling, closing my hand over his against my belly. I drew a deep breath and laid the story out for him. I could feel his body going taut behind me before I finished.

"Ye mean he let ye go to yer boy alone?" he asked, his voice like broken glass.

I furrowed my brow. "The other guy had a gun. He was more of a threat. I couldn't have taken him down. Besides, all I could think of was getting Seth away from that psycho and his knife. I wasn't planning, neither was Phil."

Murphy snorted against my neck. "If he wasn't planning, he should have gone after the boy. That would have been the instinctive thing. Protect the helpless," his voice was tight. He was honestly pissed.

"Murph," I began, unsure of how I would continue, wasn't sure how to defend Phil's action when I had never questioned them before.

"Sorry, girl. Shouldn't have asked."

"How could he have done it differently?" I asked, softly, more to myself than to Murphy.

"Rushed the guy with yer boy."

"And gotten shot in the process?"

"Got shot anyway," Murphy said, matter-of-factly. "Left ye to kill fer yerself, then protect yer boy. Shouldn't have had to do that, girl. Not you," he said, fingering my hair.

I had never really considered it before. The way Phil had handled it had made sense to me, but now that Murphy mentioned it, logic hadn't entered into my decision to go after Seth. It **had** been instinct. Nothing else had existed, except that red tunnel of rage with my boy at the end of it. Come to think of it, I very well could have gotten shot before Phil got to the guy with the gun, but the thought hadn't occurred to me at the time. In fact it hadn't occurred to me until just this second laying here half-naked in front of a fire with my vigilante ex.

"Sorry," he repeated. "I'll leave it. He and yer boy get along, though?"

I shrugged. "Well enough I suppose. It was better when Seth was younger, but the older he gets the more and more he's becoming like me and I think Phil was hoping to not have two of us to contend with in the house. Too many opinions that don't agree with his. Stressful."

He nodded, thoughtful.

I stared at the flames as they withered, I could feel Murphy building up to more questions behind me so I cut him off. "Think your legs could get you up the steps, now?"

He smiled. "Aye, I think so. I'll damp that," he said, gesturing at the fire. I nodded as I tried my own legs. They supported me, but they weren't happy about it as I settled my living room back into normalcy. As I bent over to pick up the blanket, Murphy's hands lighted around my hips. "Always like red on ye, girl. Sexy as hell."

I laughed as I straightened, leaning back into him, he had retrieved his boxers, but nothing else and I could feel the cool of him through the thin material of my robe. "Come on," I said, taking his hand in mine, leading him up the stairs. Very slowly.

Connor was on his back next to the wall when we walked in, his arm outstretched waiting for me to crawl in beside him. I untied the robe and let it fall from my shoulders and I heard Murphy do the same with his boxers behind me. I pulled back the bedspread and scooted in, Connor's body creating an oven under the heavy covers. I cuddled to Connor's side, my head on his outstretched arm which contracted on instinct, wrapping around my shoulders, curling me to him. I laid my hand on his chest and he found it with his other hand, lacing our fingers and placing my palm over his heart.

I felt Murphy slide in behind me, spooning to my back, his curves and position achingly comforting. His body molded to mine, one hand over my hip, the other slid between my shoulder and Connor's arm, wrapping around my chest. I had started to drift off, before Murphy spoke again. "We weren't goin ta tell ye. When we found out ye were married, we thought it would be better not to say anything."

I looked back over my shoulder and met Murphy's blazing blue eyes. Those eyes that had always been straight with me. "Tell me what?" He swallowed and looked down, I nudged his chin with my shoulder until he looked back up. "Tell me what?"

"I love ye, girl." Murphy had always been the more emotional and there was so much feeling in those four little words, I choked for a second. Just long enough for him to start to backpedal. "I mean, I know it's not right, ye being married and a ma and all, but…"

I pulled my hands away from Connor, who grunted in protest, but let me go, turned in Murphy's arms to face him, pulled his face to mine and silenced him as I pressed my lips to his. I kissed him for a solid second before he reacted, sliding his hand up to my face, my hair, and held me close, kissing me back. Somewhere in the proceedings I started crying, but I didn't know it until I tasted salt on my lips. I pulled back and Murphy brushed my tears away with his thumbs. I kissed him once more, resting my hand on his cheek, "I love you, too, Murphy. Never stopped. Always will."

He smiled. That Murphy smile and kissed me once more as Connor started to root around for me at my back. I grinned at him before I turned back to his brother, taking up my former position and settling in, Murphy closing in behind me.

I was more relaxed than I had been in longer than I could remember, wrapped in familiar limbs, comfortable scents and warmth. The ever-soothing heartbeats of my twins beating in almost unison against my palm and my back, their breathing quickly aligning as Murphy drifted off. And I lay there in between them. Contented. Hell, who was I kidding? Happy. Sated. Loved. I smiled weakly to myself as Murphy started to snuffle behind my back as he fell into a deep sleep, his hand pulling my hip possessively to him as Connor's arm tightened around my neck, holding me tighter to his chest. I squeezed his hand as I snuggled to him, pressing my ass into Murphy as I groped with my free hand for the one he had slung over my hip. My boys were here. Surrounding me. I couldn't have been happier and I fell into a deeply restful sleep.

Of course with morning came the realization that I was about to lose them all over again.


	13. Chapter 12

I jerked awake at near 5 am. Being a mom and a wife and a business owner had forced me to become a wake-up early person whether I wanted to or not. Even on a Saturday morning which just seemed sacreligious, but here I was pinned between the two loves of my life, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I sighed and inhaled…twins. I grinned to myself and snuggled in deeper, thinking, 'fuck it' when my cell started to ring. Seth's ringtone.

Reality came crashing down on me, as I kicked blankets clear of the still rousing brothers and crawled out over Murphy, dashing down the stairs in my birthday suit, grabbing my purse off the chair in the kitchen and pulling out my phone just before the fifth ring when it would switch to voicemail.

"Don't hang up, don't hang up. I'm here, babe. What's up?"

"Mom?" he asked.

"Yeah, bud. What?"

"Hi," he said. I could hear the grin in his voice, the little smartass.

"Hi?" I asked, smiling myself, despite the chill in the kitchen on my naked ass. I headed for the laundry room, pawing through yet another basket searching for something to throw on.

"Yeah," he said again. "Hi."

"What are you doing up this early, you little smartass?"

He giggled a tiny bit. "Nothing, just wanted to say Hi."

"Really?" I asked, pulling on a pair of panties, one-handed.

"Uh-huh. Hi."

"Hi, babe," I said, turning further into the laundry room, grabbing one of Phil's undershirts that near fit me like a dress. I clicked the speakerphone button and laid it on the top of the washer as I pulled the shirt over my head. "So did you have fun last night?"

"Bunches. Did you? Aunt Nat wanted me to ask."

I felt my face flush red as I picked the phone back up and pressed it to my ear, turning around to see both twins standing in the hallway laughing silently. I glared at them both before I stuttered into the phone. "Um, yeah, I had fun. Tell Aunt Nat I had several rounds of fun."

"Ok, I will when she wakes up."

"Ok, babe. I'll talk to you later, when I pick you up."

"When are you coming?"

"Um," I said, the reality of it hitting me. I wouldn't pick him up until after I handed the twins back to Romeo. "Not sure, sugar. Later, probably after noon. Why don't you text me movie times and we'll figure something out, ok?"

"Ok," he said. "I love you, Mom."

I smiled. "Love you, too, Filbert."

"Bye."

"Bye." I said, punching the disconnect button. I pointed a maternal warning finger at the twins who continued to giggle. "You two suck." I said, stepping in between them, wrapping my arms around Murphy's waist, pressing my cheek to the inked skin over his heart. He responded in kind, holding me tight against him.

"Mornin', lass," Connor said, molding to my back, his hands on my hips as he kissed my neck, softly, his whiskers stinging not unpleasantly.

"Morning," I said my voice muffled against Murphy's chest.

Reaching under my chin, he tilted my head up to face him. "Should have left that ice pack on longer last night, girl," Murphy said, stepping back, then kissing me quickly before heading to the kitchen.

Connor caught me by the shoulders and spun me to face him. "Oh, aye," he said, tilting my face back and forth under the overhead light. "Quite the shiner, lass."

"Aw, hell," I said, reaching up and touching the spot that (now that they had mentioned it) was feeling a little sore. "Is it really bad?"

"Ye look like Roc the morning after St. Patty's," Murphy called from the kitchen where I could hear him moving my coffee pot around.

"Fuck me," I sighed, moving to follow him.

"Again? Right here?" Connor said, pulling my hips against his own and attacking my neck with his mouth. I shrieked and tried to push back at him, laughing.

"Connor," I squeaked, squirming out of his grip. "Quit it," a laugh still in my voice as I backed away from him into the kitchen…where Murphy pulled me back against him, grabbing my wrists in one hand and holding them over my head so Connor could move in with wiggling fingers around my ribs, tickling. I screeched, pulling back, stepping on Murphy's feet in an effort to get away. He tried to step back with my feet still holding his socks, lost his balance and went backwards, taking me and Connor, who had tried to grab us both at the last second, to the floor.

We collapsed in a pile of limbs, each of us rubbing various body parts. "Ow," I said, hand on my ass.

Connor's hand rubbing his forehead echoed with an "Aye."

"Ye need help smoothing that injury out, girl?" Murphy asked from somewhere behind me.

"No," I smirked. "I think I got it." I glanced over my shoulder and swatted his thigh. "Make yourself useful. Make some coffee." I looked at Connor, grinning up at me. "And you find me a cigarette," I said, kissing his nose.

We all climbed to our feet, aching. Joints cracking. I trudged to the counter and pulled out a stool watching the boys limp away. I smiled. None of us were getting younger. And considering the life they were living I could imagine what kind of shape they were gonna be in in say ten more years when the injuries started to add up. I felt the smile drain from my face. I wasn't gonna see them in ten more years. I doubted I would see them again after this morning. An empty spot deep inside me that I thought I had paved over years ago cracked and I suddenly had a hard time catching my breath.

Murphy turned then, watching the color drain from me. "Ye alright, girl?"

I plastered a fake smile over my anguish and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good." He crossed the kitchen, coffee carafe in hand, slid a hand under my hair, cupping the back of my skull, pulling my face to him, kissing my forehead. I leaned into him, my arms sliding around his middle. He put his chin on top of my head and I leaned against his chest. Connor pressed against my side and I wrapped one arm around his waist as well, holding them to me, absorbing all of them I could for as long as I had them. I put my feet on the floor and they stepped back.

"How about breakfast?" I said heading for the fridge. I sensed the alarmed look passing between them. "Relax," I said, over my shoulder. "I've been cooking for nine years now, haven't lost anybody yet. I'm actually not bad at it."

Once the coffee was perking and we had all lit cigarettes, the boys fell into a conversation in Gaelic as I cooked. I thought simple would be better. I would really hate to tell them how much better a cook I was now and then completely destroy something, so eggs, bacon, and pancakes seemed a better option. They were actually very helpful. Buttering and table-setting as I worked.

I laughed as I sat down at the table. "You're better at this than Seth."

"And yer old man?" Connor asked his eyes on his plate. "He doesn't help set?"

I shook my head, taking a sip of my coffee. "Not really. He's not here for meals most times." A significant look passed between the twins, and I arched an eyebrow. "What?"

"Yer not happy, lass," Connor said, meeting my eyes.

I shook my head in protest. "Who said that?"

"Ye don't need to say it, girl," Murphy said, his eyes on his pancakes. "It's been in every move ye've made since we got here."

"Love to think that fire in ye last night was just us," Connor started.

"But that wasn't all," Murphy said, looking up at last, pinning me with those damn eyes of his.

"Deep down, ye're a hellcat, lass."

"And that's less, now."

Fuck. "I'm not a kid anymore, boys, anymore than the pair of you are."

"That's not it, either, girl."

"Tell us ye are happy and we'll drop it, lass."

I opened my mouth to say it, I really did, but meeting the twin blue stares from across the table, I couldn't force the words out. I sighed, looking away. "What do you want me to say?"

"Why stay? If you're unhappy?"

I laughed, bitterly. "And go where? I turn a decent profit at the store, but not enough to support me and Seth both. I'd have to start putting in more hours, let go of four or five workers who each have their own families to support and I'd never see my boy."

"Ye have thought of it, then?"

Double Fuck. I shrugged.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. "Do ye love him, lass?"

I bit my lip and looked into the corner of the kitchen. "I'm used to him, I guess."

"Does he love you?" Murphy asked. I could feel his stare.

"He loves my boy," I said, my throat tight. "With everything he's got he loves that kid." I looked back at them, tears in my eyes, but I wouldn't blink and let them fall. "If that means there's not much left for me, well…I'm a mom, now. Those are the kind of sacrifices I'll make for Seth. No questions. No regrets."

"Ye could-" Murphy began and trailed off, glancing at Connor and then down.

"We could help, lass. Come home with us. You and the boy both, when this is over. Come back to Ireland."

I couldn't breathe for a second. The lovestruck horny girl that still lived down in me, fought like hell to get to the surface and scream 'yes' and let the boys take me simultaneously right here on my kitchen table, but the mom in me slapped her soundly across the mouth and told her to shut up. "You really think it's gonna end after Little Yaka?"

"Of course, girl," Murphy said, looking up.

I smiled at them both in turn. "Until somebody else wants to test the resolve of the Saints and you get sucked back in again." They both sank a little into their chairs. They knew better. I think they would have been ready for it to be over, but we all knew I was right. "I love you both to pieces, and if it was just me I would go with you in a heartbeat, but I can't tear my son out of everything he knows to drop him into the life you two live."

They looked at each other. A conversation at the speed of thought that I was excluded from. "We expected as much, lass," Connor said, reaching across the table and taking my hand.

"But we had to ask, ye understand," Murphy ended, taking my other hand.

I squeezed, nodding, and smiling. "Nice to be asked, though."

Breakfast was subdued after that.

After they helped me get the house more or less back into order and we all dressed they called Romeo while I jumped in the shower. I knew I wouldn't be able to drop them somewhere and drive away from them, so they arranged for him to meet us in a grocery store parking lot maybe twenty minutes from the house. The conversation in the car was just like old times. The boys smoking and cracking jokes, I snarked in where I could, their hands lighting on my face or shoulders more than usual, but I craved their touch.

Romeo was already waiting when we pulled in, an anxious look on his face. "My uncle…" he said, leaning in the passenger side window, then trailed off, looking at me.

"No secrets from the lass," Connor said, "Yer uncle what?"

"Says he has some information for us. He'll be at his place all day. The Silver Peso, ten minutes from here."

The twins looked at each other, their bodies shifting subtly. Vigilante mode. Murphy nodded slightly. "Alright, Rome, what say ye run into the store for a bit."

He looked over at me, grinned and nodded. "Sure. Good to see you again," he said to me.

"You too, Romeo. Watch out for them?" I felt the twin's indignant stares. Like they needed to be watched. Pfft.

"Sure," he said, walking away.

"Alright, lass," Connor said, opening the door.

Murphy climbed out of the back seat and opened my door as I unbuckled. His hand light under my elbow, we walked around to stand between my car and Romeo's.

"Well," I said, clearing my throat.

Murphy came up behind me, turning my shoulders to face him. His face dropped into my neck where it met my shoulder as his arms went around my waist. I held him tight, his hair in my face, his smell in my nostrils and every fiber of my being screamed for me to go with them. He raised his face to mine and kissed me, thoroughly. My knees went weak and my body flushed as his hands held my face gently, turning me this way and that. The kiss slowed gradually until he pulled back, pecked my lips twice more, then rested his forehead against mine. His eyes meeting mine, our breath mingling in the space between us. "I love ye, girl. And I'll miss ye."

I smiled. I refused to cry. Not while they were still here. "I love you, too, Murph. I'll never forget you." He stepped back then away from me to the other side of Romeo's car, lighting up.

I turned back to Connor, who hugged me fiercely as I slid my hands under his pea coat, tracing his back and his stomach as he held my shoulders. I laid my head against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart, as his fingers ran through my short locks then over the skin at the back of my neck. I heard Romeo walk up behind us and get into the car. "I love ye, lass. Take care of yerself, yea?"

"You two, as well, Connor. I love you and…" I trailed off, meeting Murphy's eyes over the car. "It'd kill me if I had to read in the paper that you, either of you…" my voice failed me. I couldn't even say the word. "Just watch yourselves, okay?"

Connor grinned at me, then, "Got God on our side, don't we, lass?"

I laughed bitterly, stepping back. "So did Joan of Arc and they burned her at the stake."

"Joan of Arc didn't have our guns," Connor said, his grin still glowing.

"Or our knack for planning," Murphy chimed in.

"Oh sweet Christ," I said, laughing.

"Ye want us to get word to ye when we leave?" Connor asked.

Regretfully, I shook my head. "Naw. I'll watch the papers. Let my heart break clean."

"Aw, lass," he said, leaning down. He kissed me, softly, slowly. Then drew back, ran a finger down the side of my face and stepped back. "Goodbye."

I nodded, my chin up. "Goodbye," I said to them both, my voice starting to crack. "I love you."

Romeo looked more than a little uncomfortable as he sat behind the wheel, the engine running as I backed away. As Connor turned from me, lighting up as he climbed into the backseat, I could see them changing. Their postures stiff, their eyes sharp, their minds on the job. Back to business. All business, my boys.

Neither of them looked back as Romeo pulled out of the parking lot, leaving me standing beside my jeep. I had no doubt that I was out of their minds for now, but I was just as sure that I would always be there. In the background. The same as they would always be in mine, I thought as I climbed back into my car and broke down.


	14. Epilogue

Epilogue

I stood at the back of the church, sobbing quietly, my husband on one side and my son on the other. Seth took my hand and pressed a Kleenex into it. I smiled sadly down at him and touched his hair. The casket passed by on its way out the door, I made eye contact with Dolly and Duffy as they passed and offered a sympathy and tear-filled smile.

Our car was silent on the way to the cemetery, cruising through rain-slicked streets, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

The graveside service was short and bittersweet. I thought Greenly would have appreciated that. Plenty of games on the tube today, he wouldn't have wanted anyone to miss any on his account. As the crowd started to break up, Dolly and Duffy drifted over to me where I stood alone with my son, Phil off hobnobbing with the various departmental bigwigs. Dolly smiled sadly at me and Duffy hugged me tightly, the way that only people who really want to break down, but won't allow themselves to do. I introduced them to Seth, who shook each of their hands, offering his sympathy for their loss. Quite the little gentleman, my son.

My eyes drifted to a darker corner of the cemetery, under a lonely tree bare of it's leaves. My eyes followed Phil's huge form as he made his rounds. Dolly saw my dilemma. "It was very nice of you to come. He always liked you. We'll run interference for you."

I smiled sadly. "Thanks. Come on, Seth," I said, taking my boy's hand and towing him to a lonely gravestone.

"Noah McManus," Seth read outloud as we approached. "Like my name."

"Yeah," I said, dropping to my knees, brushing away the leaves where I could.

"Are we related to him?"

My voice caught in my throat. I cleared it as the tears started to roll down my cheeks. "Ask me again when you're older, babe. For now lets just say he was dad of some very good friends of mine." My boy knelt beside me, running his fingers over the raised letters of Il Duce's Christian name. "You know how I told you when Grandma died that if you really wanted to talk to her, come to her plot and talk and she'd hear you?"

"Uh-huh," he said, looking up at me.

"Well, do you know what Mr. McManus would love to hear from us?"

"What?"

I took his hand in mine as I started, "And shepherds we shall be." He joined in on the second line and we recited the McManus family prayer over the fallen patriarch even as his boys languished, injured in The Hoag. "En nomine Patris, et File, Et Spiritu Sancti," we ended, as tears dripped off my nose onto the ground. I touched the cold stone, so like Il Duce, sniffled and came to my feet. Brushing off my knees, we made our way back to where Dolly and Duffy had cornered Phil.

"You've met my wife and son?" Phil asked as we approached.

"A time or two," Duffy replied, smiling at us sweetly. "Good to see you, again."

"You too, Detective," I said, sniffling, as they withdrew. "Are you ready to go?" I asked Phil as I dug for the keys in my purse.

"I'm gonna grab lunch with a couple of guys, if that's okay."

"Sure," I assented. "See you for dinner?"

"Probably."

"Ok," I agreed. "Hug your Dad, babe."

Phil and Seth embraced a little longer than usual, a cop's funeral did that to other cop's and their families. He kissed me on the cheek, touching my back before he walked away to a group of waiting men. I took Seth's hand and made for the car. I had a couple things to pick up at the store before I headed home, so Seth and I headed that way.

I greeted Nat as I came in the back door. "How was it?"

"Bad," I said, honestly. "But not as bad as it could have been."

"It rarely is," she agreed, "I think I have a Coke in the fridge if anyone is interested," Nat said, looking down at Seth.

Seth's eyes shot open and looked at me for permission. "One," I said, authoritatively, holding up a finger.

"Ok," he said, dashing off.

"What do you say?" I shouted after him.

"Thank you," he shouted back, his face buried in the fridge.

"Your welcome," Nat said, smiling. "How are you really?" she asked turning on me.

I had been near inconsolable when the news broke about the shootout, almost catatonic when the injury reports were so slow to make their way out of The Hoag, and depressed since I realized that now that Connor and Murphy were going to recover they would be in the Hoag for, very likely, the rest of their lives. The news about Greenly and Il Duce hadn't helped.

"You seen the paper today?" she asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

"No," I said, following her to the breakroom table.

"You may want to sit down to look at it."

I arched an eyebrow at her and obediently lowered myself into a chair, pulling the folded newspaper towards me. She leaned against the table beside me as I unfolded it to the bold headline.

**ESCAPE FROM THE HOAG**

**Several Prisoners Still at Large; Notorious Saints Among the Missing**

It was a good thing she had told me to sit down, because I would have hit the ground as my eyes devoured the story. Aside from the boys, several small-time robbers and petty crooks had also been sprung. Search efforts were hampered by the number of escapees and the number of false tips being called in. The mode of escape and how so many managed to get out all at the same time was still being investigated. Results of the investigation would be forthcoming.

I felt the tears streaming down my face. "Nat," I sobbed, "they're out!"

"Thought that might brighten your day," she said, taking the paper back.

Katie poked her head into the breakroom just then. "Oh," she exclaimed, "you are here, Boss."

"Just for a second, Katie," I said, wiping away the tears. "Why?"

"Guy out here asking for you. Thin. Well dressed. Told him you were off today, but he said to check for sure. That you were back here."

My brain froze for a second, but then it all made sense. "Watch Seth for me for a minute, will ya?"

"Sure," Nat said, standing beside me.

I walked out front around the corner to the guy that Katie pointed out, his back to me. The stance and the build was unmistakeable. "Should I still call you Smecker or do you have a new name?"

"I'd prefer you didn't call me anything at all," he said turning to me, a very attractive bra and panty set in his hand. "We can keep this as anonymous as possible."

"Agreed," I said. "The story in the paper today makes sense, now. You're putting them to work."

"As soon as I can get them out the country again. Won't be as easy this time, but I'll manage."

I felt myself smile. "I have no doubt."

He responded in kind. "Anything to tell them?"

I shook my head. "They know everything. I wouldn't know what else to tell them. You'll keep them safe?"

"Of course."

I nodded. "Good."

"Ok, then," he said, replacing the hanger. "You may want to check your safe deposit box, though," he finished, flouncing from my store and my life.

I piled Seth into the car and headed across town. The bank manager put us in a little room where we could wait until they retrieved my box. I paced nervously, aware of my son's anxious look. I touched his hair as I walked past him, soothing him and he turned back to his book. My box arrived and the well groomed girl who had brought it, withdrew silently. I pulled my key and opened it.

On top of everything there was an 8x10 manila envelope. I pulled out the contents to see pictures of my husband coming out of a seedy hotel room with a redhead that I recognized as one of the secretaries in his office. I pursed my lips. I wish I could have been surprised, but I wasn't. I had suspected for a long time, but having the proof was nice. Underneath the pictures was a copy of the standard pension form for a Boston police officer and a highlighted section from a law book outlining the entitlement of a wife to a percentage of her husband's pension after a divorce where infidelity was proven. I smiled wickedly to myself.

Underneath the manila envelope was a smaller legal envelope containing an address and a phone number and detailed instructions on how to get in touch with the twin's new employer (which looked suspiciously like the corporation branch of the Catholic Church) when I was ready to come to them. I smiled to myself, hugging the envelope to my chest.

I lightly fingered the other items in the box. The pictures of us. The money was long gone, used up when I was 8 months pregnant with Seth to pay off a friend of mine who worked in a DNA lab to 'fix' my paternity test results. A tidy sum, but worth it at the time. Another envelope, still sealed, contained the actual paternity results, obtained using the hair and blood samples the twins left behind in my apartment, that little piece of paper told me which of them was actually father of my son.

I thought once he was born I would have been able to tell, he would start to favor one or the other eventually, but he had so many characteristics of each, I had never been able to decide. I fingered the sealed flap of the envelope, toying with the idea of opening it, but I covered it again, unopened. Frankly I didn't really need to know. I knew his father was one of the two men that I loved and that was enough for me. I looked over at our son.

My hair, my mouth. Connor's hands. Murphy's jawline. Who knew?

I couldn't tell them while they were with me. They weren't even distracted and still got shot up and caught. If they had been thinking about me and our boy, they may not have made it out at all. Plus I couldn't bare the idea of them going back knowing that they had a son here that I had taken over all decisions for. Essentially cutting them off from raising them. It killed me to do, but I had known it was the right thing. Then.

Now? I smiled to myself, as I touched my boy's hair. Connor's eyes looking up at me from under Murphy's brow. He grinned at me. Not now. Not while he was still so young, but soon. I'd ease him into it. A new life. A new adventure. "Babe?" I asked him. "What do you think about Ireland?"

His eyes sparkled. "I've always wanted to see it, Mom. Why?"

I grinned. "Just checking," I said, piling everything back into the box. "Let's head home, huh?"

Home, I thought, sure.

For now…


End file.
